Parting Shot
by x.Anaphora.x
Summary: When an alien steals work on the ultimate weapon out from under SHIELD's nose, it's up for the Avengers to find it and prevent the aliens from destroying the Earth. Again. But when one of Nick Fury's secrets' secret gets involved, they may find out that there's more they have to protect than just a couple of pages. Clint/OC.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

**Author's Note:: **_So here's the prologue to my new Avengers story. As it is, this serves mainly as background which you can either read or skip. Please, let me know what you think! Enjoy!_

* * *

Nick Fury's secrets have secrets.

For example, there was the fact that directly after the whole debacle with the Chitauri, the Council had ordered SHIELD to begin the E.P.I.C.S. Effort (**E**xploration of **P**rojects to **I**mpede **C**elestial **S**abotage). EPICS was born out of the resistance to Phase 2. More accurately, Thor's resistance to the project which was so strong that he took their main source of power with him to another world. So, out of the ashes of Phase 2 arose EPICS which worked to form new plans for deterrents and immediate responses to alien attacks and also restart old projects which had died out for a variety of reasons.

And a secret closely linked to EPICS was that SHIELD was putting the majority of their hope in was the resurrection of a project entitled P.I.E.C.E.S. PIECES or the _**P**__ursuit of __**I**__ntelligence __**E**__ssential to __**C**__ritical __**E**__xtraterrestrial __**S**__ituations, _was a project working to develop the ultimate deterrent christened the Perditrix. Unfortunately, the Perditrix had ended twenty-five years ago as it was deemed to have "unnecessary force for any conflicts in the foreseeable future." Fury had an issue with the word "foreseeable" but had been directed to let the project die. Nineteen years later, now that they needed to revive PIECES, the creator and lead scientist, Dr. Kendrick was dead. It had been an "unforeseeable tragedy." Go figure.

Speaking of PIECES, about a month ago when they began to really get into the project an alien had been captured scouting out the facility in which the majority of the work was being done. It became very clear after a few interrogation sessions that somehow word had reached space about the device and he was sent to acquire the Perditrix. So there was an extraterrestrial threat on Project PIECES now. Again, unforeseeable.

While on the subject of the Perditrix, they had also been going through Kendrick's notes that he had kept while originally working on the project and found that they were incomplete and that half of the formulas weren't formulas but words. It was unclear if the names were names of researchers or theories (as there were some names that seemed to be coded and others that were directly mentioned.) It was also uncertain as to whether or not the names were first or last names, as it appeared that a few were very clearly first names and a few were very clearly last names, and then there was the mess of ones that could be either. There was also the possibility that some names could be regular people he came in contact with in his life meant to jog his memory, and leave SHIELD completely confused. They were currently in the process of decoding all of these formulas and searching out the variety of leads.

However, the most pressing secret on Nick Fury's mind was one that had reached him a little less than half an hour ago. One of his secrets was now inaccurate. The alien was gone. Somehow he had freed himself, knocked out a couple of Fury's top agents and the lead scientist on the case, stolen half of Kendrick's notes before being surrounded by agents and then vanishing into thin air.

And it was with these secrets on his mind that Nick Fury landed at the secret base near Cima, California.


	2. Chapter One

**(Chapter 1) Keep Calm**

**Author's Note**:: _So, I've finally gotten to replace the trial run with the actual story! Yay! My wonderful beta readers may want to go back and review the prologue. If you're a little confused by this first chapter that's actually sort of a good thing. Trust me on this one. As for Molly I've pictured as looking **sort of** like Keira Knightley. I have a link to a picture on my profile that I think resembles her the most._

* * *

_Near Cima, California_

Agent Hill greeted Nick Fury as he climbed out of his helicopter.

"How much was lost on PIECES?" he didn't bother greeting her. One of the privileges of being the director of the world's most important secret law-enforcement agency was that it was well within his rights to bypass any of the normal social formalities and get right to business.

"All of the translations are gone, sir. All we have left is Dr. Selvig's memory." Hill informed, equally brisk. She joined step with him as he exited the pad on his way down to the site of the theft.

"And the agent who was providing the translations?" Nick Fury asked, already expecting the answer.

"She's gone, sir."

"There's always one." He commented grimly. If anything it was a surprise that he hadn't lost any more agents in the ordeal. "Anything else I should know about?"

"Agent Romanoff is in the Med Facility. She only needs a few stiches before she'll be released."

"And Agent Barton?"

"Helping Dr. Selvig assess the damage right now. He was one of the agents who witnessed the vanish." Fury walked into the lab taking in the scene around him. The lab was a large room, usually kept clean and streamlined. Any other day he would have walked in to complete silence and seen each agent at a station, head bent carefully recording the results to whatever tests they were attempting. The lab was a flurry of activity and sounds now. Agents were scrambling all over the place, holding documents and receiving them. Checking equipment, tinkering with equipment, dodging the sparks that were flying off of the machines. There was some smoke in the room and he saw someone place down a bright red fire extinguisher and wipe their brow. On the floor papers were scattered and there were several substances spilled near various tables. In the middle of it all was Dr. Selvig, directing his technicians and assistants as best he could in the chaos.

'How's it looking Doctor?" Fury asked, as Dr. Selvig turned around to face him, his hands full of photocopies. His face was pale, and there seemed to be a small cut on his forehead above his left eyebrow. Other than that and the appearance of being extremely hassled, he seemed to be ok.

"It's not good, Director. I can tell you that." He said, guiding Fury over to a table where Agent Barton stood looking over a journal and several pages scattered across the table, as if attempting to find some connection. "This is all we have on the project. He completely fried the computer so any electronic copies we made are lost. It's all down to what's left of Kendrick's Journal and the few notes I've made along the way. The translations were all on the mainframe and Kathryn's notebook, which he took. He even ripped out pages from Kendrick's Journal. We have some copies that we printed out, as you can see. But essentially we have nothing. You know, it's getting dangerous working for you." Dr. Selvig lamented.

"Can you make any progress with what's here?" Nick Fury asked ignoring the attempt at the joke. He turned a few of the pages on the table so that he could look at them.

"Very little. The theories are too progressive, and without having the proper translations for all of the formulas, we have no way of knowing what Kendrick's sources are or if they're actual formulas."

"And how long would it take to retranslate?"

"A week or two at the earliest. We've got to get this all sorted out and figure out how far back this has put us before we can make any progress again. I've put together a list of the names and words I remember, but it's not much to go on." Dr. Selvig said, producing a list from his coat pocket. "This," he pointed to a name. "We discovered to be connected to Dr. Wilhelm Alder. You've heard of his work?"

"The expansion and contraction of black holes? Yes, I'm familiar."

"There's a gala at the New York Hall of Science this Saturday. I've heard he's giving a lecture there." Dr. Selvig supplied. Nick Fury nodded.

"And this," Dr. Selvig pointed at another name that was underlined and circled. "Appeared the most often. We have no idea what Kendrick meant by this."

"I do." Fury commented, taking the list and putting it in his own pocket. It was a gesture that effectively ended the conversation on that subject.

"I was thinking, and perhaps it's time to call in Jane Foster or even Dr. Banner. It's bad enough that we lost so much information, if we had them maybe—"

"I'm not bringing anybody else into Project PIECES unless I have to. I need you to start getting ready to move all of this to the Helicarrier. Agent Barton?" For the first time since Nick Fury entered the room, Agent Barton looked up. He walked over to Fury, as the director began to leave the room.

"Yes, sir?"

"What happened down there?"

"He came in through of this door, and we immediately made an effort to restrain him. He hit some sort of button on his wristlet that had been hidden and it released a sort of sonic boom, which knocked us back and temporarily paralyzed us. He made his way up to the journal, shooting off more of those pulses, which did a number on the equipment and then knocked Selvig out of the way. Agent Blake came at him with her gun and he killed her. By that time the effect of the boom had worn off and we started to surround him. I took a shot at him, and like that he vanished. Sir, if he was capable of causing this much destruction, he must have let us capture and take him in. He wanted to be here so he could get to the journal."

"My thoughts exactly." Fury responded.

"If he has those translations, he's going to start going after the people involved. I don't know if he's going to force them to work for him or steal whatever it is they've created, but SHIELD probably needs to create some sort of effort in order to protect them."

"That's exactly what I need you for." Fury said, pulling out a manila folder and handing it to Barton.

"Operation A.R.R.O.W.?"

"The names on this list are going to need to be protected, and we're going to have to start making leaps about who the next targets are. I'm going to need you at that gala."

"Me, sir? I'm a sniper. Natasha would be better suited for this."

"I have something else in mind for Agent Romanoff. That alien slipped through her grasp. She's going to want to go after him. Besides, I'm not sure that she and Stark will play well together on this one."

"Stark?" Agent Barton asked. Fury could understand the reluctance.

"He already has an invitation. I'm going to need him to get you into this."

"Director Fury…" Barton started. "How did you know that we would need an invitation to that gala?"

"I'll have a copy of this list sent to you. Be at Stark's tower by six. It's all in the file." Nick Fury walked away.

* * *

_Manhattan, New York City_

Molly McKay rarely ate breakfast at home. Every morning she had to be at Monarch Bakery at five o'clock in order to start baking for the day. She took her breakfast break at around ten o'clock when Saoirse came in to help finish everything off. By that point the owner was still there and would watch shop for an hour while Molly went to the small diner that was down on the corner and ate her breakfast there. Due to the fact that Molly ate breakfast there almost every day and that the Bakery frequently gave the diner all of their left over goods for the day so that they were able to sell all of the pies and cakes for pure profit, Molly got a good discount on her meal. So, she never went anywhere else which may not have been a good thing. But to say that would be getting ahead of things. As it was, going to the diner had it's perks.

It also had a huge drawback in the form of the young blonde waitress who decided it was her goal in life to make Molly better. Janet. Somehow Molly had been stuck at Janet's table a couple times in a row, and so Janet had decided that they were now friends. Best friends, actually. So the hostess, thinking she was doing Molly a favor, would sit Molly in Janet's section every day. Every day.

"Molly!" Janet exclaimed in a sing-song voice coming over to the baker's table. "How are you?"

"I'm good." Molly responded calmly to the perky blonde as she looked over the menu. She had memorized it a long time ago (one of the gifts of having a true photographic memory) so looking through it was mainly for a distraction value. A polite way to ignore Janet.

"Did you try that hair rinse I suggested? A little lavender and apple cider vinegar, and it'll really bring the life back to you hair. Make it less…flat." Janet suggested picking up strands of Molly's brunette hair and letting them fall back in place.

"It's on the shopping list." Molly said looking up from her menu. Suddenly Janet's eyes widened and a bigger smile grew across her face.

"Did I tell you? _O Captain! My Captain! _Reached 1.5 million fans." Janet asked pouring Molly a cup of coffee. Molly took two of the creamers out of the small porcelain bowl at the center of the table and carefully took of the paper covering them, pouring them into her coffee.

"Really?" Molly asked, not even bothering to put the usual tinge of interest in the tone. She knew she still had five minutes of Janet going on about Captain America and her great fansite – it was the leading fansite for Captain America in the whole world, did you know that? – and there was nothing Molly could do to stop her.

"To celebrate I posted the story of how he saved my life. It was on the day of the Chitauri invasion—" Molly had heard the story so many times she told it along with Janet in her head. Molly ripped up two packs of Sweet N Low and dumped it in her coffee. _I was being herded across the street by the police, along with everyone else. There were explosions and gunshots all around. People were screaming and the police were barking orders to try to get it under control. I still remember the fear I felt in the pit of my stomach. Pure _terror_. If only you could imagine what it felt like to know that any minute there could be a bullet with your name on it. One explosion close enough and that was the end of your story. You turned into another number in the death toll. A name on a memorial wall. _

She would pause there.

_And that's when I saw it coming for us. Did you know, theirs a stage of fear when you let it take over you? It seeps into every fiber of your being seizing it in a cold grip, paralyzing you. I couldn't move. I couldn't even scream. I had reached that stage; I hope you never have to experience it. Death was coming, and I couldn't even lift a hand to greet it._

A small smile played on Janet's face. She was proud of that line, but she had to keep the mood of the story up.

_And then he came. He stood right in front of me with his shield. That shield. It was like it wasn't even there. I made it safe because Captain America saved _me._ He stood right in front of me and protected me. I owe him my life._ Janet stood there with the pot of coffee in her hand. Letting the story sink in. As if Molly had never heard it before.

"And how's Monarch?"

"Well, we just got a catering opportunity for tonight. It's this fundraising gala for a bunch of the leading physicists of today. Kind of a, this is what we have discovered and what we're working on and how you can use this knowledge kind of thing, as an update to the benefactors. It's being held at the new museum that just went up. I'm hoping that this opens the door to the whole academic elite community and maybe even some of the other people there who are more high society philanthropists than physicists. There should be a couple lectures too."

"A whole night of people talking about science?" Janet snorted. "Good luck with that." Molly didn't attempt to make a case of how physics was actually interesting.

"Well, we were only signed on a few days ago to take the gig, so we're being paid a sizeable bonus for the late notice. Maybe with this Monarch can afford some of the new equipment that I've been—"

"That's great, Molly." Janet interrupted, obviously bored. "Pancakes right? Whole wheat? Low-fat syrup?"

"Oh, I don't want the low-fat, I prefer—"

"Sure you do! It's good for you. You care about eating healthy don't you?" Janet wrote down the order. Janet was fairly certain she knew more about Molly than anybody else. Including Molly. "Besides you need to keep in shape if you want to attract a man." She winked. Janet, though extremely misguided, meant well. She only wished on Molly what she wanted for herself.

"Oh, I'm not worried about—" Molly started immediately. She hated this subject.

"Oh, well good for you." Janet said eagerly. "I mean, you're happier than I'd be. By the time I'm thirty, I hope I have a kid or two. I mean, geeze, if I don't have my first one by the time I'm twenty-six I'm going to adopt."

"That's two years away, Janet." Janet kept Molly up to date on her birthdays. Molly had no choice but to tell the waitress how old she was.

"I know, so I really need to get a move on with the whole husband thing. I mean, no offense, but I don't want to be single when I'm _thirty_. It takes a year to plan a wedding so I'd get married when I'm thirty-one. And then there's the year and a half of making sure it's the right guy, and then we start having kids and that would make me thirty three by the time I had the first one, if I got pregnant right away. That's like seven years behind schedule, I'd be fifty one when they graduated high school." Janet wrinkled her nose. "That's way to old to be raising a kid." She quickly brought herself back to Molly and turned very apologetic. "But, honey, if that works for you, then good for you."

"Excuse me, miss?" An older man at a table nearby raised his hand. Janet spun around and stuck on a big smile.

"Yes, sir? How can I help you?" the sing-song voice was back. Molly breathed out, glad the attention was away from her and her romantic situation.

"Can my wife get a little more coffee?"

"Of course. I'm so sorry. I just got a little bit caught up helping my friend go through something. You know, how it is." She said sweetly. There wasn't any use protesting. Janet honestly believed that she was doing just that.

With Janet away, Molly was left sitting at the table by herself in blissful peace. One of these days she would find a way to bring Saoirse, so that she wasn't alone facing Janet. It wasn't that the waitress was annoying, she was just a little wearing on personalities like Molly's. Although, if you held a gun to Molly's head and asked her to describe just what kind of personality that was by picking three words to describe herself, she probably wouldn't have been able to give a single answer. And she guessed that that fact, in it's own way, was a very good way of describing herself. She wouldn't want to lie to the person, because Molly had a thing about being honest even if it hurts. She was also too thoughtful, and would have put too much thought into it, carefully denying each word that came to mind as it may have obscure implications that didn't always apply to her. She was a little quirky, but for the most part was able to hide it when it mattered. When it came down to it, it mattered a lot too. Her boss was fairly uptight and generally crazed, so Molly had to do her best to keep a level head at work, which was good because that was one of the attributes that she retained the most. So, honest, level-headed, Molly fought to come up with a third one and soon gave up. Two out of three, she did better than she would have thought.

A woman walked up to her table, and Molly recognized her as having been sitting at the table with the man who called Janet away. "I just wanted to let you know, that you can't let her bring you down." The woman said seriously. It took Molly a second to realize that the woman was referring to Janet. "I had my youngest son when I was thirty four and he and I are perfectly healthy and happy to this day. You have kids when you're ready with your Mr. Right. Don't you worry about what some bitch twenty four year old waitress says to you. It's your life." The woman said reassuringly. "And God bless the man and children who have to deal with that." She nodded at Janet who was animatedly talking to a businessman who very obviously _just_ wanted breakfast and not to have to deal with any chattering blonde.

"Thank you, ma'am." Molly smiled a bit bewildered as the woman walked away. She was greatly amused that Janet had just been called a bitch, but also disturbed by people's sudden interest in giving her advice.

Maybe she would have to skip breakfast tomorrow.

* * *

**Ending Thoughts: **_It was getting pretty long so I decided to cut it off here. I hope you like it :) Your opinions and thoughts are greatly valued. Reviews me write faster!_


	3. Chapter Two

**(Chapter 2) All The Right Moves**

**Author's Note:: **_So, before I start I'd like to thank __**Said the Silence, MikaBee2434LOVE, **__and __**peacey2005**__for reviewing and encouraging me to continue to write. Also all of you amazing readers who followed and favorite the story pushed me to get this out today. I've already used this chapter title before, but most of the content is new! Oh, and to celebrate the return of links to the profile page, I have another picture of Molly and a picture of the venue! But on with the story!_

* * *

If Molly had ever been to a place more beautiful than the Anthony Viscusi Gallery of the New York Hall of Science, she couldn't remember it. And she remembered everything. Eidetic memory. Any scientists who wanted to argue with her that such a thing didn't exist could kiss her ass, because she did in fact remember everything and that was that.

The circular room reminded her of being on the moon or in some sort of dream. The ceiling was high and dark, an interesting contrast to the white walls. Hanging down from the ceiling and forming a sort of tent-like roof over the dance floor, was a white fabric that looked as if it came from the wings of a glider. Square pillars surrounded the silver, slightly raised, circular platform that served as the dance floor. Around the room, close to the walls, were tables (also circular) with tall arrangements in the center of purple and white flowers shaped to resemble a sort of firework. All of the lights gave off a silver-y, purple-ish glow and with LED laser lights hidden on every surface, the ceiling, floors, walls were all covered with shimmering speckles of light.

Molly's table of cupcakes was placed on the far side of the room, away from the entrance, between two stacks of large, lit up boxes. The guests seemed to be just as entranced with the whole atmosphere as Molly and Saoirse were, and if Molly had been one of the high-rollers walking into the room, she definitely would have been dazzled enough to give away half of her fortune.

"This is _so_ _cool_." Saoirse whispered for what was probably the fifteenth time that night. Molly just nodded, not in the same way she nodded whenever Janet was around, but in the genuine "I really don't have the words" way.

"I'm thinking that this is going to be the best event I've ever been to. Interesting speakers, gorgeous venue…" she trailed off, thinking about it. Ever since Monarch started catering events a little over a year ago, the owner had placed Molly in charge of coordinating the events and making sure they went off smoothly. She would attend the event with all of the cupcakes, help to set up the table and/or manage the serving staff. Although she hardly ever served the cupcakes herself, she would stand by the table and provide the guests with information as to the ingredients, the store location, any other ridiculous questions, and if they ran out of any type of cupcake, she would call back to the store where a baker (usually Saoirse) would drive up some more. There were a couple of times throughout the night where Molly was also allowed to leave her station and network with the crowd if everything was going smoothly. It was a nice deal, or at least one that she really enjoyed. In essence, it was a taste of the fine life without any of the stresses of high society. She could get used to this.

Tonight, Saoirse had been sent with Molly to train so that Monarch could expand their catering business. Saoirse, which, by the way, is pronounced SEER sha, (Molly found that out the hard way) was one of the other bakers at the store who helped Molly cover her shifts or finish any last minute requests. She worked at Monarch to pay her way through grad school, and due to the amount of hours they both worked there, she had quickly become a good friend of Molly's. The owner had started calling Saoirse, "Little Molly" every now and then, which was something that neither Saoirse nor Molly understood. Saoirse was a petite blonde with perpetually pale skin. Her hair was very wavy and cut into a simultaneously cute and sexy bob that always looked good. She had a heart-shaped face with thin lips, a button nose, and brown eyes. On the other hand, Molly stood about four inches taller than Saoirse at 5'6". She had an average body type, a little on the thin side, and worked hard to keep it that way. Molly had blue eyes, a long thin nose, and some freckles set on an oval face. Her hair was naturally one of the darker shades of brown, though it lightened up in the summer, and was much longer than Saoirse's falling past her shoulders to about midway down her bust.

Saoirse was a lot feistier than Molly too. She was quick to get excited about something, and much quicker to get angry. Some of the girls at the shop would try to provoke Saoirse at times because when she got angry she spoke with a lilt and used some of the old Irish phrases that her mother used. And then there was the fact that Molly was four years older than Saoirse.

But they were both efficient and skilled bakers, and they got along very well.

"Maybe you think they're interesting, but that last guy obviously has not taken any classes in public speaking." Saoirse said. "Poor guy."

"He doesn't need to take any classes in public speaking. That's Dr. Alder. He was a revolutionary in the field of astrophysics. I mean his research on—"

"I'm going to stop you there, because there's no way I'm ever going to understand what you're saying." Saoirse held up her hands, and Molly stopped.

"I don't really understand it either. I just remember hearing about it." Molly defended as an older couple walked up. Molly greeted them, giving descriptions for each of the cupcakes (S'mores, Espresso Shot, Sucker Punch, the Halo and Bourbon Street) for the man whose eyesight was apparently impaired. The woman meanwhile fired questions at her, the same kind of ridiculous questions Molly had been answering all night. At what point did people start caring about "What factory do you order your wrappers from?" and "What country do you import your sugar from?" Molly told them what they wanted to hear and made up answers when she didn't know them. They walked away, seemingly content, and Molly took a sip of the champagne that had been given to her. This was one of the few places where you were allowed to drink on the job. At least, she was. Saoirse hadn't been given champagne.

A woman walked up, dodging the old couple that had started to argue a little as they got further away from the table. She was beautiful, tall and thin with sleek red hair pulled into a low bun. A few loose curls fell around her face and down her neck. Her make up was natural and tasteful, unlike some of the other women who had taken the phrase "let me put on my face" to heart. Her dress was purple and looked to be made out of satin. It was one shoulder, with the shoulder that was covered actually having more of a sleeve than a strap. The sleeve had wavy bits of purple fabric fashioned to look like roses on it. There were lines cutting diagonal across her chest, following the dip in the lack of shoulder. The rest seemed to be cinched in the front at the waist and then fall into a beautiful flowing gown. She smiled when Molly greeted her, moving to the baker's side.

"There's so much to choose from." She said looking over the cupcakes. "They all look so good, too. What do you suggest?" she turned to face Molly who was caught completely off guard. No one the entire night had asked her to make a suggestion as to which was the best.

"Well," Molly said collecting herself. "My favorite here is the Bourbon Street, actually."

"The Bourbon Street?" she asked. Molly pointed to it, and the woman walked over to the cupcake, picking it up and observing it. "What's in it?"

"It's a chocolate cupcake soaked in bourbon, and it has a bourbon buttercream with a pecan praline." Saoirse answered from behind the table before Molly could.

"And the Sucker Punch? That's an interesting name." the woman looked up at Saoirse. Saoirse laughed.

"I know. Sometimes I think people are worried that when they order it I'm going to deck them like in the old Hawaiian Punch commercials, but it's actually really good. It's our lemon cupcake with sweet cream frosting and some lemon zest."

"And the Halo?"

"Angel food cake." Saoirse supplied.

"Ahh," The woman nodded. "I think I'll stick with the Bourbon Street, though. That sounds good." She walked back over to Molly, taking a bite out of the cupcake.

"And?" Molly asked.

" It's delicious." The woman had to navigate the words around a mouthful of cupcake, resulting in a muffled sound. She took a second to swallow before starting again. "Can I have a second?" she directed this question to Saoirse.

"Of course." Saoirse said. The woman already had her hand around a second.

"Where are these from?" she asked, taking a second bite out of the cupcake.

"Monarch Bakery. Here's our card with our website and information, if you want to look it up." Saoirse said taking a business card out of her pocket. There was already a stack on the front of the table, but Molly and Saoirse had decided to keep some on them to hand out.

"Thanks." The woman said, juggling her cupcakes so she could take the card from Saoirse. "Do you do a lot of catering gigs?"

"A good amount, I'd say. We're not too hard to book, all we ask is for a week or two's advance notice. We're actually branching out our catering services right now." Saoirse's training and observations had obviously paid off.

"Awesome. Well thank you for the cupcake." The woman thanked before turning to Molly. "And thank you for the suggestion. Have a great rest of the evening, and don't stand here all night." She walked away before Molly could correct her. She must have thought that Molly was a guest and not an employee. The confusion made sense. Unlike Saoirse, who was wearing the same outfit as the rest of the serving staff, Molly wore a dusty rose-colored evening dress with a ruched bodice and waistline. It was a v-neck dress with thin straps, and a floor length a-line skirt. It was flowing and she had spun around several times before she got there so she could see her skirt twirl around her. Her hair was pinned up into a braided bun. Molly was also standing in front of the table, while Saoirse was behind it. It would be easy to confuse her as a guest.

Molly watched the woman navigate her way across the dance floor before stopping in front of a man. He looked familiar, despite the fact that the woman was blocking Molly's view of his face so all Molly could see was about how tall he was, the shape of his head, and dark short hair. The woman handed him a cupcake. He took it, and then the woman pointed to the table and at Molly, who quickly looked away to avoid being caught staring.

"Oh. My gosh." Saoirse said, looking in the same direction that Molly had just been.

"What?"

"Do you see who that is? That's _Tony Stark_." Saoirse said. "We just gave a cupcake to Ironman's date." She was starting to freak out a little bit. "_Tony Stark_ is here. _Ironman_." Saoirse said as if it wasn't sinking in on Molly.

"Do you want to go get his autograph?" Molly asked.

"Very funny." Saoirse retorted. Molly smiled, and then while Saoirse wasn't looking, craned her neck to get a view of Tony Stark. He was talking to some other rich person. Maybe Captain America would be here. That'd show Janet.

* * *

_A Little Later_

The fourth speech of the evening finished up, and the majority of the cupcakes had been given out. As it got later, the number of guests coming to get cupcakes began to dwindle and Saoirse and Molly had settled into a conversation about Saoirse's search for a new that was closer to school and to the bakery. The band had struck up a new song and more people were moving to the dance floor than had before. Probably as an attempt to stay awake as there were still three or so speeches left and it was already getting fairly late.

"I like this song." Saoirse said, leaning heavily on the table. "It's the first bit of music all night where I understand why everyone's going out there. I mean it's no, like, Nicki Minaj, but I feel it." Molly laughed as Saoirse began to dance along with her shoulders. Suddenly her friend straightened up, and Molly turned around to see a man standing there. He was quiet, and his presence seemed to demand their attention and silence. He looked a little stiff, like a soldier more than someone who was avoiding a dance. He was handsome. Molly's toes curled a little bit as she looked at him. It was one of her little quirks that she had. Easy to hide, and yet still embarrassing. She felt her face grow warm under his stare.

"Hi." He said. The word seemed too childlike to come from him. His voice wasn't as rough as she had expected.

"Hi." Molly responded softly. She wasn't sure why her voice was almost in a whisper, but she was sure Saoirse would tease her about it later.

"Do you want to dance?" his voice was quiet too. That was why hers was. A worthy excuse. And then Molly realized what he was asking her.

"Oh, no I couldn't. I –"

"Don't feel obligated to stay here talking to me. Go, dance." Saoirse interrupted. "She's been keeping me company all night. Too nice." There was suppressed giddiness in her voice. Molly wasn't quite sure if she wanted to kill Saoirse later or thank her.

"Well, I guess then, dancing would be nice." Molly said, as she took the man's outstretched hand as he led her out to the dance floor. She turned to face him, and both placed their hands in the proper places, careful not to put an inch too low, the pressure relaxed. A tingle raced through her spine as she felt his hand on her waist, the other gently holding hers. He began to lead her, and she followed his movements, grateful for the few classes she took at college. They danced in silence, bodies gliding across the floor, moving in perfect fluid motion. Her legs carried her in a way she wasn't quite sure they were able to. Apparently it didn't "take two to tango." It only took one really good person. Her mind was free from the constraining thoughts of dance-speak, the "1,2,3, turn" "forward, and 1" "careful of your feet" that usually plagued her when she danced. She was too focused on her partner, keeping her eyes locked with his as often as the dance would allow. There was a determination in his face, and in hers too, she was sure of it. The silence between them was tense, not awkward, as she had expected, just like a taut string that connected two objects as they whirled through space. Words would have ruined the feeling.

She took in his features as they danced, piece by piece, as she did when she looked at a painting. There were grey eyes, almost light blue. Short brown hair that stuck out a little in the front. Square face, lined and scarred with a broad nose in the center. Mouth was set in a line. Taller than her by maybe three inches, maybe a little more or less. She searched for a word to describe the whole picture. Attractive? Yes…No. Stoic? That worked.

And then out of the corner of her eye was Dr. Alder dancing with a woman, presumably his wife. In a flash he was gone, and a little bit behind him was the red haired woman dancing with Tony Stark. The woman looked serious, her eyebrows furrowed in concern as she moved through the dance. In the next second she was out of sight. Molly stumbled on the hem of her dress as she tried to follow them with her eyes. Instantly, her partner's grip on her waist tightened as he steadied her, gently lifting her back onto her feet. He was strong too and Molly's stomach flipped at the change of his hold on her. His grasp relaxed, seeing her resettled. "Thanks." Molly commented, apologetically.

"No problem." He responded. They recovered quickly, and she kept her eyes trained on him, even as his darted over her shoulder or to the side. Never say that Molly didn't learn from her mistakes.

"I'm Molly." She introduced herself suddenly, surprising herself a little. He had been looking to the side, and his attention was turned towards her. A small smile came to his lips.

"Clint." He responded. _Clint. _She repeated in her head. It would have meant something different if she had said it out loud. They returned to silence, that was far more comfortable than any strains to make conversation, as the dance ended. He kept his hold on her as the starts of a new one started up. A few people around them exited the dance floor. Clint opened his mouth to say something, and then turned to look behind him. He mumbled something.

"I'm sorry?" Molly asked. He turned back around to look at her.

"Thank you." He said as he released her and then turned away, leaving quickly. She could hear him talking a little as he moved further away, leaving her on the dance floor.

Molly stood there for about a second, before she made her way through the crowd and back to the booth.

"Well?" Saoirse said, eyebrows raised. "How was dancing?"

"It was nice." Molly shrugged

"Nice. It was nice." Saoirse teased. "I saw you out there. Looked intense. Meeting up later?" she insinuated

"No. Oh—No. No." Molly protested, probably more than she should have. "No." One more couldn't hurt.

"So, I'm assuming that those four no's mean yes." Saoirse asked. She was always attempting to help Molly out in her love life. It was a lot less annoying than when Janet did it, because Saoirse was never passive-aggressive in her criticisms. She was blunt, and Molly could handle that.

"Not this time." Molly said, shaking her head. "No, he actually…left." Molly looked out, she couldn't find him in the crowd. He had taken off towards the door.

"He left?" Saoirse asked, surprised. "With a piece of ass like yours?" While Saoirse was described as adorable, the personality didn't quite match.

"Well, he seemed busy, and he thanked me."

"Molly." Saoirse whined. "You should have been on that. He was fu— Hello." Saoirse said as another guest walked up. Molly had to work hard to restrain the laughter.

"Hello." The guest said, looking through the cupcakes. "Are any of these gluten free?"

Molly didn't have a chance to answer because it was about that time, that somebody screamed.

_"They're back!" _ a woman screamed, while simultaneously crying. "They've come back to kill us!"

"Who's back?" Someone called. The music had stopped, and the room was eerily quiet. Only a few other murmers.

"The _aliens_! It's just like it was three months ago!" And at that point, everyone else started to scream and run for the doors despite the fact that that was where the woman who had claimed to see the alien had just come from.

Saoirse and Molly didn't scream, however Molly's heartbeat took off and Saoirse looked extremely panicked.

"The cupcakes?" Saoirse asked. Molly could have laughed at how in the midst of an alien invasion, the first thing on Saoirse and Molly's mind were the cupcakes.

"Leave 'em. Dianna asks, they were all eaten." Molly said, lifting her dress up a little bit as she took off towards the door. They were one of the last ones out, and just in time to see Ironman and Clint, dressed in a new outfit with a compound bow, standing off against the alien. It was then that she remembered seeing Clint before. The day of the Chitauri invasion, while she had been huddling in a building watching the superheroes fight, she had seen him next to a tall red haired woman. He was an Avenger. The alien was tall, and looked almost human had it not been that he was about eight feet tall. He had pale, almost grey skin that looked like stone. His hair stuck out at all sides, sort of like Albert Einstein's only it was black instead of grey. His eyes were much larger than a human's, slanted and black_. _He had no ears, and his nose was flat, similar to Voldemort' had a black long sleeved shirt on which glistened, so Molly could tell it was made out of some hard metallic substance. He had silver cuffs on his sleeves and black spikes leading up to the top of his shoulder. His pants were made out of the same sort of armor, with black spikes leading down the side of his legs. He didn't appear to be armed, until she noticed the holsters on either side of the black belt.

"I am Talbot, and I am just the messenger." A messenger with scary looking guns.

"The messenger? Of what?" Ironman asked.

"Of the destroyer of worlds." Talbot said. A woman let out a cry.

"Look, we know why you're here, and bottom line: you can't have him." Ironman said.

"Have him? We're not here for any of _you_." Talbot sneered.

"Then what are you here for?"

"I am here to take what you aren't fit to have. Yours is a race of children, stupid, vying for attention of the grander community. You are trying to control that which you do not understand, which you cannot even begin to fathom. Some of you hold slivers of knowledge in your head. Dr. Alder." He said turning to the doctor, who backed up a little in the crowd. "But we've come for something else."

"What are you here for?"

"The iridium." Dr. Alder spoke up for the first time.

"Iridium? There isn't any iridium here." Clint responded. Or, she should say, Hawkeye. Molly's thoughts raced as she tried to think about Iridium. Her father had taught her about different kinds of elements and metals. What was iridium? A stabilizer. It was the most corrosion resistant. Why did the aliens want iridium?

"After the whole incident in Germany, they took the remaining iridum and split it up, sending it to different parts of the world to protect it." Dr. Alder explained, before turning to Talbot. "There's not enough iridum here for anything you could want, and I don't know where the rest is."

"There's no need to try to protect it. You are flies to be swatted. Ants under our boots."

"I've heard that one before." Ironman commented. "Anyway, we could keep up all of these niceties of what your plan is, who you're working for, but honestly, we both know you're coming home with me."

Talbot snickered. "I don't think so." He took out his gun. It was unlike any gun Molly had ever seen before. Hawkeye drew his bow. Talbot let out a shot into the crowd, and Ironman fired one of his blasters. And then Talbot was gone. People weren't sure whether to cheer or not.

"Alright, party's over." Ironman said, taking off his mask.

Saoirse looked at Molly. "So, I'm guessing this means we have to pack up the cupcakes after all. Damn."

* * *

**Ending Thoughts:: **_There was a lot cram packed into this chapter, so I didn't have to spend much time doing any other set up and could get straight to the action. Thank you for making it through and continuing. :) Please let me know what you think, as I love hearing what my readers want to see and what they enjoyed!_


	4. Chapter Three

**(Chapter 3) Taking Stock**

**Author's Note:: **_You guys have no idea how happy it made me to log on and see all of the new follows and favorites and reviews. So, to say thank you I decided to release this chapter ahead of schedule! And to __**AgentBlindSide**__ (and everyone else) Janet is the waitress in the movie. I thought it'd be interesting to see the effects of the Avengers movie on different people. Read and enjoy!_

* * *

_On the SHIELD Helicarrier_

Agent Barton and Tony Stark, sat at a table on the bridge of the Helicarrier, in front of a disgruntled Nick Fury. Three months ago, they would have had back up under that stare. As it was, the remaining four members of their team had gone off into the world (actually, universe would be more accurate) to do their own thing. Thor had gone back to Asgard with his brother and the Tessearct in tow. Captain America had gone on a cross-country tour on his motorcycle to catch up on everything that he had missed in his time under the ice. Dr. Banner had returned to his philanthropic efforts, helping children who had been orphaned by AIDS at the Nyumbani Village in Kenya. Natasha was working a separate operation, or at least she had been last time Agent Barton had heard from her, and that was the day of the break out. So as it was, it was just him and Stark struggling to explain to Director Fury just what had happened, even though they weren't so sure themselves.

"He called himself Talbot?" Director Fury confirmed, from his position at the head of the table. He paused and shot a look at Maria Hill, who typed something into the tablet she was holding. "Did he identify his race?"

"No, sir." Barton responded.

"Did you _ask_ him to identify his race?" Fury leveled a stare at the two of them. While Stark was immune to any guilt relating to his responsibilities, Clint was not. He did move on from it quickly, however.

"We were a bit preoccupied." Tony Stark, said doing one of his classic opened handed points/waving the hand gestures. "Saving the people there who we were assigned to protect and everything."

"It's standard SHIELD procedure, to identify any new races we come across so that we can start building up a data base."

"Evorsor." People turned to look at the newcomer. Natasha walked up the remaining couple of stairs before sliding into a chair across from Stark. "They're called Evorsor's." Everyone looked at her. "I had to learn something while I was interrogating him. Didn't quite get a chance to tell you once you came." Natasaha said, referring to her concussion and stiches.

"Evorsor, that's…" Clint started.

"It means destroyer, over thrower, obliterator, exterminator." Maria Hill interrupted. She looked at Clint. "Sorry."

"That matches with what he said to us." Agent Barton responded. "He called himself the messenger of the destroyer of worlds. But he wasn't there for Dr. Alder."

"Then why would he take the translations?" Natasha asked.

"I don't know. But he said he was there for Iridium." Barton answered, looking at Director Fury.

"Which reminds me," Tony Stark said turning in his chair. "When did SHIELD move all the Iridium in the world. And why wasn't I told about it?"

"That's official SHIELD business. Need to know basis, and you have a problem of keeping information within its clearances."

"Yes, I'm sure that all of the people in that room had whatever clearance level they needed in order to learn that all of the Iridium has been broken up and hidden. Dr. Alder was so kind as to point that out." Stark responded. Fury, as he usually did, ignored Stark.

"So we need to put agents in the field to guard the iridium."

"What about us?"

"I need you to stay on ARROW."

"And for what? We talked to Dr. Alder after the attack. All of his prominent research has been put online except for what he gave in the speech which should be up by now." Stark pointed out. "And, the Evorsor even said that he wasn't after any people. What did he call us?" He snapped his fingers pointing at Barton.

"A race of children, stupid, and vying for attention." Barton supplied.

"Eloquent." Natasha commented.

"So, we need to stop him from getting his hands on any more of the materials in order to build this whatever it is he wants to build. What is it he wants to build?" Tony Stark asked.

"Not your concern, Mr. Stark." Director Fury answered, glaring. Stark's phone beeped, and he pulled it out of his pocket.

"Ahh, Project P.I.E.C.E.S." Tony Stark said scrolling through his phone. "Was headed by Dr. John Kendrick—I know that name. Why do I know that name?" Nobody offered an answer. "And the most important piece of the puzzle, PIECES is building the latest and greatest deterrent out there. Because Phase 2 worked out so well."

"Listen, you're staying on ARROW." Fury said. "I have a feeling that just because he didn't want anyone at the Gala, doesn't mean that he won't be going after anyone else on the file."

"So what are you suggesting?" Natasha asked.

"We need to get them all in one place and see if they are interested in the scientists or not." Director Fury said, starting to pace as he was thinking.

"So, a lure of sorts." Natasha clarified.

"Sounds like we need another party." Stark grinned. "My place then?"

Fury nodded. "And let's bring the Captain in on this one. I need Banner on call too." He directed Hill who walked '

"And, Agent Romanoff?" Stark asked. "I have a dress that—"

"Agent Romanoff is working another angle on ARROW." Fury quickly interrupted.

"Talbot had help getting out of here, which means that someone in SHIELD isn't who they say they are." Natasha answered, her voice just above a whisper. "I'm trying to smoke out the rat that let this bastard out."

"May God have mercy on his soul." Stark smirked.

* * *

_In an Apartment in Tudor City_

Molly dropped her keys back into the bottom of her bag as she opened the door to her apartment. She owned (yes, owned) a nice studio apartment in Tudor City. When she walked into the apartment, she entered a small foyer with three doors leading from it. To the left was the door to a decent sized bathroom (as in, you didn't have to leap over the toilet to get into the tub). The two doors on the right led to closets: one stocked with linens, cleaners, and other household items, the other with jackets, dresses and shoes.

Once she exited the narrow hallway, the room opened up into a more spacious rectangular room. Directly to the left, tucked into a small nook that shared a wall with the bathroom, was her kitchen station. It was a line of cabinets with a microwave in the wall above it, as well as other typical apartment kitchen features. About an arm's reach away was a small square table pressed up against the wall with two chairs by it. One sat at the table, far away from the kitchen while the other stuck out into the center on the room. On the opposite side of the room, sitting in the corner created by one of the closet's walls along with the outside wall was her dresser with some pictures propped on top of it.

On that outside right wall was a fairly large window that took up a good portion of the wall, opening out to a view of the river. All along the wall were black and white and colored photographs of her family and friends, as well as some photographs that she took of various objects and places. There were also some paintings and wall decorations, all of them varying in sizes and spaces away from the next wall ornament, to giver her wall an almost patchwork look. On the other three walls there were very minimal decorations, only about one or two fabric panels to give the white walls some color. Underneath the window was a large hope chest, that came down a little bit below the windowsill, but provided a nice window seat as well as storage for her objects associated with her various hobbies, and some other keepsakes that she had acquired through the year.

Next to that was a slightly taller (though still short) and long bookshelf that stretched from its place next to the chest almost to her desk that was situated in the far right corner. There was just enough room for her to pull out the chair so it's back was against the side of the bookshelf, so she could squeeze in and use her desk. On about half of the bookshelf were baskets that held some of her trinkets, pieces of technology, games, and other things that she needed a place for. On the other half of the shelf were as many books and magazines as she could cram on them, her encyclopedia set, moving to the top of the shelf, to the left of her TV. On the far right wall there were two more windows, letting in more light so the room was lit completely naturally during sunny days. An air conditioning unit sat in one unit, and the radiator was situated underneath the two, that served as a bedside table (despite it being closer to the foot of the bed.)

Her bed was pressed up almost against the radiator, in a sort of small nook on the left wall of the room. It was a full sized bed that doubled as her couch (in use only, it didn't fold up into a couch). She could only get into it from the one side or from the foot, but since she didn't have anyone sharing the bed with her, it wasn't a big deal. And then to the right of the bed was the table, and she was back to where she began. The floor was made of some type of oak, which provided a nice contrast against the white walls. In order to bring some more life into the room, she had lined all of the empty windowsills with plants, and kept a vase with some flowers in it on her kitchen table. The room seemed to be in a perpetual state of organized clutter, because she had fit everything in every available space, but she worked hard to keep it clean, because the moment it slipped into a mess she wouldn't be able to move in her own home.

Still, it was bigger than most Manhattan apartments at this price. She had gotten it for under $300,000 and the maintenance fee was less than most people's rent. On top of that she didn't have any mortgage or anything she had to pay back to the bank. The apartment had been a gift.

Ok, so that needed a little bit of explaining. Her parents had decided, as the intellectuals they were, that if they could do nothing else they would make sure to pay for all four years of her college education, letting her have the best education that she could achieve. Of course, her father had been a high school science teacher (not really a profession known for how well they're paid) and her mother had been a sociologist (which did bring in a good amount of money), so there were times where, in the future in mind, they cut back and scraped on other things. Especially once her father had died when she was fourteen. Her mother had moved them our of their house in California, and into a smaller house in New Jersey, but by the time college rolled around, they had enough money to send her to any Ivy League school.

However, she had managed to grab a full scholarship to the University of Chicago, so her mother dedicated the money to Molly's house instead of taking it back. Except, Molly only got two years of schooling in before her mom got sick, so she packed up her things and moved back to Edison, New Jersey to help drive her mom to doctor's appointments and take care of her. About halfway into the first year of helping, she got a part time job at the bakery working up some money in case of tragedy. Her mother got better though, so after four years of helping her, Molly was able to move into her apartment with her college money and what she had worked up at Monarch. Her new house was within ten minutes walking distance of the bakery because the owner had offered her a full-time position which Molly gladly took.

Molly put her bag on her kitchen counter, and then walked over to the bed, lying down on it and flipping on the TV. The news had been left on from where she was checking the weather earlier. _"Disaster strikes at the Meeting of Minds fundraiser tonight at the New York Hall of Science when an alien drops in for more than just a drink…" _The news then proceeded to show cellphone video coverage of the encounter with the alien, Talbot. The anchors questioned the legitimacy of the encounter as to whether or not it was some hoax scientists were putting on so people put more money into their work, and then they talked about the Avengers for a little bit and their histories and about the Chitauri invasion. Molly watched it with bored interest, mainly to see if she would make it on TV. She didn't, but she caught a glimpse of Saoirse. And then she realized that her mother liked to watch the news and this would be all over it.

Molly rolled off of her bed and walked over to her laptop, quickly opening the mail server.

_Dear Mom,_

_If you've seen the news you know that an alien came to the New York Hall of Science, and I can say that from where I was standing in the crowd, it looked pretty real to me, no matter what Denise Landrum says. Anyway, I'm fine and everyone at the party was fine. He did want some iridium, which makes me wonder what his plan is, but whatever it is I'm not too worried. Iron Man and Hawkeye were there so I assume that the Avengers are on top of things. Didn't want you to worry. _

_Much Love,_

_Molly_

After reading it again, Molly sent it and then walked back over to her bag to pull out her phone and send her mom a quick text telling her that Molly was ok and to check her e-mail. She then returned to her bed where she watched a little bit of Adult Swim before setting her alarm and going to bed. It had been a long day.

* * *

_At Monarch Bakery in Murray Hill_

Monarch Bakery was a hole-in-the-wall little shop. The front of the store was almost complete glass except for a small green wooden window seat that could have been used as display, but instead a planter full of small colorful flowers sat on it. A slightly paler green awning hung over the front of the store with little lights on it for when it got dark. The inside of the store was a soft and slightly dark purple, with little butterflies flying along the upper boarder. It was a rather small showroom. The left wall was lined with shelves filled with cookies and other small treats such as scones and tarts in boxes and bags, all baked fresh from the morning. On the right wall, there were only three long shelves, with pies and a few cakes on them. For the most part they were just for shoe while the rest of the cakes and pies were in the back for Molly to get for customers if they needed it. The main display case was filled with the cupcakes baked that morning, because for Monarch Bakery was for the most part, a cupcake bakery. Where Molly's apartment was busy, the bakery was rather minimalist, and the customers seemed to like it, because they were fairly busy for most of the day with a few breaks every now and then.

And right now was one of those times. After her break for breakfast, Molly worked the front of the store for the rest of her shift, because the majority of the baking was done, and even if it wasn't there was usually a couple of people in the back to finish it up. The bell over the door tinkled, as a red haired woman walked in.

A very familiar red haired woman who was looking down at a business card.

"Hello, welcome to Monarch Bakery." Molly greeted from where she was leaning on the counter. The woman looked up and a quick look of surprise crossed her face.

"You work here?" She asked, walking up to the counter. "I thought you were a guest the other night."

"No, I'm just the coordinator. I'm actually one of the bakers here." Molly smiled, she reached her hand across the counter. "I'm Molly."

"Pepper." The woman responded, shaking her hand.

"It's nice to meet you." Molly said, taking her hand back. "Sort of." They shared a small laugh, before Pepper looked at the display.

"Well, you convinced me the other night that I need some cupcakes for a party my boss is having."

"Are you looking for us to cater them, or would you just like to order them for delivery?" Molly asked.

"What are the differences?"

"Well, with catering I'll be coming to help set up the display and manage the distribution. I'll be there for any allergy questions, and I usually mingle a little with the crowd to get the name out. We also take down, and if at any point you run out, we'll call back and bring some more to you for a small extra fee each time you run out, but I personally think it's worth the assurance. I can also do decorating demonstrations, but that's more for kids' birthday parties or like clubs than events. In both cases we bake the cupcakes later in the day so they're fresher. When we deliver, it's just in a box; you set it up and clean it up and everything. It's cheaper though."

"Alright, I'm going to stick with catering. I really just wanted to know the difference." Pepper laughed a little.

"Sure, let me go get a form." Molly said, slipping into the back and taking a catering brochure and order form out from the binder they were kept in. She leaned over the counter, circled the "Catering" option and then wrote her name and Pepper's name at the correct spots. "Alright, can I have your phone number?" Molly asked and Pepper gave it to her. "And what is the date of your event?"

"It's in next Saturday, is that enough time?" Pepper asked.

"Sure, that's works fine. We just ask that you give us 24 hours notice if you want to cancel. What time would you like to have the cupcakes there?"

"7 o'clock would be great." Pepper said, taking out a smart phone and tapping the screen to enter some information.

"Ok, and the address?" Molly asked. Pepper looked up and smiled a little bit.

"Stark Tower." There were no words for Molly's excitement. To be catering Tony Stark's party was one thing, but to get inside of Stark Tower, one of the most secure buildings and impressive buildings in the city. She was dying to see what happened inside, as it had to be even cooler and more high tech than anything she'd ever seen in her life, especially after they had to remodel three months ago because of the fact that Loki and his army basically wrecked the place. She had to keep her cool though. Pepper probably dealt with enough crazy fan girls.

"Alright, and did you have a chance to look over what types of cupcakes you would like?" Molly asked. It was clear that Pepper hadn't.

"Is it just what's here in the case?" she asked, looking down.

"There's a list of all of our cupcakes in the brochure, and if you want to see any pictures of them I have a book back here. It's easier to see them when they're all in one place as opposed to flipping page after page." Molly explained. Pepper looked down the list.

"Well, I'm definitely interested in the Bourbon Street…" she said, trailing off. "How many do I get?"

"The basic package is five, but if you want to add more that's no problem. It's just a little extra."

"Five is plenty." Pepper said, returning to the list. "Ok, so the Bourbon Street, can you tell me what the Emerald is?"

"It's a chocolate or vanilla cupcake filled with an Irish whiskey chocolate ganache and a Bailey's Irish cream buttercream frosting."

"Ok, one of those in vanilla, and what's the Sapphire?"

"A blue velvet cake." Molly supplied.

"Oh, ok. That'll be the third one. I'll also take the Boston Cream and the Yurtle?"

"It's like a Turtle brownie cupcake."

"Sounds delicious." Pepper smiled. "You have the coolest cupcakes, it's making me drool just thinking about them." She looked in the display case. "You know what, can I have a Halo right now? I meant to try, but never got around to it what with the alien."

"Yeah, kind of freaky right?" Molly asked finishing off the order form.

"By now I'm actually almost used to it." Pepper responded. "Almost."

Molly laughed. "Alright, would you like to pay for this now or later?"

"Get it over with, now." Pepper said, sliding across a credit card. Molly took it and rung her up, writing PAID across the top.

"Well, I'll see you on Satruday." Pepper said, walking to the door.

"See you Saturday." Molly waved goodbye as the woman exited the store.

Molly couldn't wait until she could next go to the diner for breakfast.

* * *

**Ending Thoughts:: **_Yeah, so this chapter was a little boring but I'm very excited for the next one! As always, reviews are appreciated and they motivate me to release the chapters faster. I love hearing your thoughts, and this time I'll personally respond to every review :) (what an incentive XD). Anything you wanna see? Fill in the box!_


	5. Chapter Four

**(Chapter 4) Party Hard**

**Author's Note:: **_Sorry that it took me a while to post this. On the bright side it's longer than the others were. I've also gotten a good number of questions about how Molly fits in. I'm not telling just yet, but if you have any theories I'm dying to hear them! Also, there's a bit of a time jump to get to some action-y parts because last chapter was so boring. Enjoy!_

* * *

_At Stark Tower_

Molly was levelheaded. It was one of the two words she was able to come up with to describe herself when asked for three with a gun to her head (remember that scenario?). As a result of this levelheadedness, she did not easily get star struck. In fact, there had been several instances of celebrities coming to Monarch Bakery and she had served them just the same as everybody else. Sure there was a bit more of an eagerness to please, but she didn't flounder for words, or start to sweat, or stare at them wide-eyed, or anything like that. She had even retained her composure when the alien had crashed the gala last week. Her stomach had knotted but she didn't scream or cry or beg for her life like some of the other women had. And, you know, if someone else had been asked to cater billionaire-genius-philanthropist-superhero Tony Stark's party, they probably would have cried a little bit, called everyone they knew to tell them, and do a huge dance number on the street or in the elevator. Molly told her boss, called her mother, did a small happy dance in the garage of the Tower when no one else was looking. By the time she got into the elevator with the cupcakes and Tony Stark's A.I. Butler had greeted her, she had settled to merely having a little lightheadedness. See? Levelheaded.

Of course, that changed once the elevator doors opened and the Butler announced the 90th Floor. State-of-the-art didn't even come close to describing it. Stark Tower was to state-of-the-art as the iPhone was to "the Brick" (the first cell phone); it was a distant and far superior relative. Molly didn't have words to describe it, because it was full of things she'd never seen before. Tech-gadgety things dotted the room as well as white couches and a large, fully stocked bar. There were platforms of some varying height and no large sound equipment but the room was still bursting with music. Past all of the people (and there was quite a lot of people here) she could see the edge of an empty table that she assumed was where she would be stationed. It was fairly close to the middle of the room, with one of the ends pushed up to the wall made entirely of glass.

"Molly!" Pepper greeted, coming over to her in a sleeveless black cocktail dress that fell to her knees. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, the same as Molly's. Molly had chosen a short sleeved, navy blue cocktail dress. It was pleated, not like a pleated skirt, but with straps of fabric layered over one another in horizontal lines. Most fashion experts would have condemned it as unflattering (horizontal lines all the way down your _entire_ body?), but on Molly it looked rather good. She wore silver strappy heals (the same ones she had worn the other night, not that anyone could tell her shoes from under that long dress) and a silver charm bracelet. "You look great." The other woman smiled.

"Thank you." Molly smiled. "I'll return the compliment later when it doesn't seem like I'm doing it just to be polite." Pepper laughed at this.

"Well, thank you in advance."

"I have the start of the cupcakes here." Molly said holding up the boxes in her hand. "There's more in the truck, but where would you like me to put these?"

"Oh, I'll send someone to help bring them up while you start the table over there." Pepper said pointing to the empty table while looking around to flag someone down.

"Don't worry about it, I have a cart, I just need to move some boxes first so I could get to it." Molly excused. It was too late. Pepper had found someone and started directing them to the truck so that Molly could work on the display. It took all of twenty minutes to set up, and considering that the party had started a little bit before she'd gotten there, the table was soon flocked with guests. However, before Molly could feel overwhelmed at having to serve so many people, Pepper pulled her away.

"You're not going to stand there all night. Not like last time." Pepper said, dragging her through the crowd. "My boss frequently tells me that I have to lighten up and enjoy the moment, and if I have to, you have to too."

"But, it's my job. I'm not a guest. I can't—" Molly protested.

"It's not my job to lighten up either; I'm the personal assistant. It's my job to worry and stress so he doesn't have to." There were more people in this space than could possibly be safe according to the fire chief's codes. Then again some areas of the floor were deserted. They really should spread out to make it less congested. "But I think we're similar." This was not an idea that Molly was opposed to. Pepper seemed kind, efficient, and successful. Not to mention she had a super rich superhero boyfriend. Similar would be good. "Which reminds me, there's someone I want you to meet." It was weird to introduce hired help to guests of this caliber. Either Pepper was really nice, or she had a soft spot for Molly for some reason. Not some reason, she thought they were similar. Duh. And even though they had only met twice, Molly thought that they had gotten along pretty well, despite the fact that they had only really talked about cupcakes. Pepper had dragged Molly full across the room to the bar section. There were a good number of people here, pairs and singles and she could see on the back shelf a large assortment of alcohol.

"Molly, this is Mr.—"

"Tony Stark." The man interrupted, sticking out his hand from where he was leaning against the bar. "Host of this raging party." Molly shook his hand, as he continued. "I also moonlight as one of the best crime fighters this town has ever seen. Sort of the head of the whole Avengers Initiative. We all have our hobbies right?" He took a swig of his drink, as Pepper shot him a look. He put the drink down, raised his eyebrows at Pepper and then straightened up a little bit. "But, um, what about you?" he did not seem interested at all, but more like obligated for fear of Pepper. Out of all the descriptors Molly had come up with for Tony Stark, humble had not been one of them. It would probably remain that way.

"My name's Molly McKay. I made the cupcakes." Molly responded. It elicited a laugh from him, and Pepper looked rather alarmed as if she didn't know whether to scold or praise him. Instead she nervously smiled a little bit at Molly, while mumbling to Tony,

"I told you about Molly and the cupcakes."

"Right…." Tony Stark said, nodding. "Right." He clearly had no idea what Pepper was talking about, and Molly had no idea why Pepper would talk about her.

"You probably have a lot to do, I should get back to the table." Molly said, feeling incredibly awkward. She turned around and was starting to go when Pepper stopped her. "Pepper, you look great." There, she kept the promise.

"No, trust me. He has nothing better to do." Pepper said, pulling her back.

"On the contrary, I have quite a busy schedule of meetings tonight. Johnnie Walker is an especially pressing issue." Tony refuted, holding up the glass half full of amber liquid before completely draining it. It took Molly a second to realize that he was referring to the Scotch. "You want anything?

"I'm good." Molly shook her head. Pepper was leaning into her hand, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked rather put out. Molly didn't understand why this was so important to her.

"So you're a baker right?" he asked pointing a finger at her as he reached back with his glass and put it on the bar's counter.

"Right. For Monarch Bakery."

"Great." He said, obviously ignoring her. "So, what do you know about iridium?" What?

"Sorry?" Molly asked.

"Tony." Pepper hissed, turning to whisper to him. Molly heard snippets. _"you're doing?" _

_"you said…alien….hide iridium…people don't even know…research…Fury's list….like you asked._" She assumed that this was an attack on Pepper for asking him to be nice to her or sociable when he was trying to research about the alien incident, finding out what the common knowledge of iridium was, considering that it had just been announced via the viral YouTube video made by one of the guests there, that the government was hiding the iridium across the globe. Molly wasn't sure how he was planning on doing this by sitting at the bar drinking all night, but as he had saved the city a couple of times (as he took care to point out to her earlier), he had to have some sort of plan. She was also confused about how fury and a list were connected.

"So?" Stark asked, as Pepper turned away, putting on a polite face.

"Well, iridium can be used a stabilizer for a number of reasons, but basically it's the most corrosive resistant metal currently known. It has one of the highest melting points and is pretty resistant to deformation. It's also used as a hardening agent for platinum and when it's alloyed with it, it's used to make crucibles and other high temperature equipment." Molly paused searching through her memory. "That's pretty much all I know about the subject." Pepper and Tony looked shocked. Tony recovered first.

"Well...that's…" he stumbled for a second before landing on, "How did you know all of that?"

"Oh, I…" Molly instantly realized that the correct answer would have been 'nothing.' But her policy was honesty even when it hurts. "My father was a science teacher, and when I was little I used to ask him about his lessons, and his kids' papers, and notes and stuff." Molly shifted her weight onto her other foot. "And since I have a photographic memory, it all just…stuck."

"Ah." He said, although it didn't sound like thought that explained anything. "So you're not an undercover alien working for any intergalactic espionage organizations, not a super spy trained from when you were four or anything. Just a girl who has a photographic memory."

"Just a girl." Molly said awkwardly. Tony Stark continued to stare at her, making her feel uncomfortable. She didn't feel uncomfortable often, but that look was something else.

"Alright, that's enough science talk." Pepper intervened. "What does your mother do?"

"She's a sociologist." Molly supplied, thinking really hard about whether or not she should have accepted that drink.

"A sociologist?" Pepper looked slyly at Tony. "Well if she ever needs to observe the lifestyle of an alcoholic, ego—"

"Pepper." Tony Stark interrupted, before interrupting himself. "Ah, Barton." Molly turned around to face Clint. The man whom had danced and ditched her. Well, ditched, to go fight an alien. Molly's eyes drifted up and down to take in the sight of him in a suit. She would let him dance and ditch her again. "Molly, this is Clint Barton. Barton, this is—"

"Molly." Clint finished nodding at her. She smiled back. He didn't smile at all, but he looked less sour.

"McKay. Yes. You know her name. Why does he know her name?" Tony turned to Pepper who shrugged, looking just as confused as him.

"We met at the Meeting of Minds Gala." Molly supplied, looking at the pair. She turned back to Clint who was still staring at her. She would love to get inside of his head, his face, even his posture, offered her nothing.

"Well, that's just impossible because I was with Barton the whole night and he refused to move from the corner except—ahh." Tony said, realizing what must have happened. "The dance."

"I didn't see you dance." Pepper said, as if she were a good friend of Molly's curious as to whom this new boy was hanging around her.

"You were a bit preoccupied at the time." Tony said quickly and dismissively. Molly remembered the frowning look on Pepper's face during the dance. What had she been preoccupied with? "Anyway, it was nice to chat, but Barton and I have to check in with Dr. Laughn and Dr. Gross. Barton?" Tony Stark pushed off from the bar and immediately took off into the center of the floor where there was most people. Barton turned and then stopped, looking over his shoulder.

"It was nice to see you again, Molly." He said, before following Stark. It was like he gave her a hug goodbye.

"Strange." Pepper said, furrowing her brow as she looked after them. She turned back around to Molly. "Anyway, that's two out of six of them, let's see if we an go make it a full half." She said, craning her neck and looking around the dance floor.

* * *

_Meanwhile_

Tony and Barton walked onto the floor searching for two of the guests of honor." I assume you already questioned Dr. James?" Stark asked as he skirted around a server, grabbing a glass of champagne off of the tray that she was offering to some guests. Barton followed closely as they moved further into the small crowd. "Or were you too busy checking out Good Will Hunting over there?"

"Good Will Hunting?" Barton repeated.

"The super genius janitor? Or in this case, caterer?"

"Molly?" Barton asked confused.

"Apparently she's not just a pretty face, she has a working knowledge of iridium. Knew more about it than you did, probably. Spurts out the facts like Banner." Stark narrowly avoided a wild hand gesture from one of the ladies who was animatedly telling a story. "What did you talk about on the dance floor? The physics behind the trajectory of an arrow?"

"We didn't talk at all." At this, Stark stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at Barton. From the look on his face it was very clear what he was thinking. "I was too busy keeping my eyes on Dr. Alder to be a good conversation partner. It was the whole reason for me going out to dance." Barton clarified, seriously. The search resumed.

"If you were so set on keeping your eyes on Dr. Alder, I wouldn't have been the only one in the hall when that alien attacked. Almost had to fight him myself." Stark challenged. "You enjoyed it. Took you a while to walk away."

"Speaking of Dr. Alder," Barton changed the subject. "When I spoke with Dr. James he gave the same basic spiel. Most of his work has been published and is available at the library. He keeps a blog online too, where posts any work that isn't confidential. He's retired from any serious governmental experiments."

"Speaking of governmental experiments." Stark stopped again as Steve Rodgers approached them. Steve looked sternly at Stark as if this had been one of those times when Stark crossed the line. He turned to Barton to fill him in.

"I just finished talking to Dr. Gross. He's retierd and hasn't done anything new for twenty years anyway. All of his old experiments—"

"Are easily accessible, online, in the library, on television documentaries. We're getting nowhere." Stark finished. "And I'm assuming that the chick will say the same thing."

"Dr. Laughn." Barton corrected. Tony was unfazed. "We've hit a pattern. No one has any reason for our protection. These aliens are smart, they knew about the iridium being hidden, so they have to know that these scientists have nothing to offer them. All of the work is online, and they seem to hate humans, so they wouldn't want to kidnap any of them."

"So Fury has us out on a wild goose chase?" Tony concluded.

"I don't think so, he seemed really adamant about keeping us close to the scientists." Barton refuted.

"Wasn't there another name on that list?" Steve asked.

"We're not sure what it even means. It could be a person, it could be a place. All we know is it's nobody famous in any of the fields related to the Project."

"I'm actually currently working on a theory that has to do with that." Tony threw in. "I'll let you know how it pans out."

"Hopefully Natasha has something." Barton said doubtfully. "Otherwise we've got nothing to help us go against these guys."

* * *

_Elsewhere_

Pepper had given up her search for the third Avenger after a while and settled into a conversation with Molly in which she told the baker a little about her time working for Stark Industries. They had bonded quickly and Molly had to agree with Pepper's earlier assertion: they were fairly similar. Molly had found herself quickly at ease in the redhead's company.

"I could have sworn I saw Steve earlier." Pepper said looking around the room again after finishing the story of how the tower became completely self-sustainable.

"What does he look like?"

"Tall, broad, brown hair." That description fit about half of the men in the room. "He would be by…..aha! There he is, with Tony and Clint!" Pepper exclaimed, pointing. Molly didn't have time to follow the outstretched finger before Pepper started to make her way down to where Steve, Tony and Clint were supposedly gathered. Molly quickly followed, and it didn't take them long to reach the trio.

"Ah, Pepper, and Molly." Tony greeted as they came up. Clint and Steve turned to face the girls. And by Steve, Pepper meant Steve Rodgers. _The_ Steve Rodgers. Captain America.

Pepper smiled pleasantly raising a hand to introduce the two of them. "I don't think you've met the Captain yet." She didn't have a chance to finish the introduction before Captain America took it into his own hands.

"Steve Rodgers, ma'am." Captain America said holding out his hand for her to shake. Molly's face grew warm and she couldn't tell if she was red. All she knew that that sensible, composed girl had been left at the bar. She was meeting Captain America. He had been one of her father's idols. She couldn't even count how many dinner conversations were based around her dad's stories of the Captain and how he saved all of those people in the war. And here he was in the flesh.

"I'm Molly." She shook his hand, still smiling like an idiot. "McKay. Molly McKay." Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tony Stark whisper something to Clint, and Clint's face grew dark, as he said something tightlipped back. Molly realized she was still shaking Captain America's hand and took hers away. "I'm sorry. It's just, when I was a little girl all I ever heard about was how cool Captain America was." Molly said. "But I'm sure your tired of hearing about how famous you are."

"I, on the other hand, _never_ get tired of hearing how famous I am." Tony attempted to interpose. Pepper hit him.

"Do you mind if we take a picture?" Molly asked. It would mean a lot to her mother. Oh, and she could send it to Janet, but really who cared about Janet. Molly was in the company of Captain America and Iron Man. And Hawkeye. There were bigger things at hand. "All of us?"

"I'll take it!" Pepper said cheerily. Molly felt for her phone, before realizing she left it under the table with the extra boxes of cupcakes at the display.

"I'll be right back, let me get my phone. I apologize for being such a fan girl. Can I get you any cupcakes while I'm over there?" They all politely declined except for Pepper who asked for a Boston Cream.

Molly was able to make her way over to the cupcake table, and was reaching for her phone when the glass was smashed. She had just stuck her head under the table to root around for the phone when the sound of glass shattering and a horrible shriek caused her to jerk her head back up, hitting the hard underside of the table. The screaming continued as Molly worked her head out from underneath the table, slowly lifting it to avoid another collision. It took her a second to get herself situated and assess what was going on.

Standing in the middle of the room, was Talbot.

And he had brought a couple of friends along.

The glass wall now had a sizeable hole at it, with a lot of broken shards that reached to the floor. Molly saw that a few guests who had been too close to the window when the intruders broke in were bleeding. About half of the partiers had made a beeline to the elevator, which Pepper was now helping to evacuate, while the other half stood rooted in place, staring. Molly was in the second half.

"You do realize you're crashing Iron Man's party?" Tony Stark said, stepping forward into the clearing. "And I had _just _finished renovating it." He kicked a piece of glass back towards them. Molly quickly scanned the room. She could see the back of Clint's head walking away, Pepper was still at the elevator making sure people minded the weight limit so that there was no other catastrophe, and the Captain was…gone. He was nowhere to be seen. The aliens made a lunge towards the guests, sending the remaining partiers screaming to the elevator. Only a few of the men who were on the outskirts of the departing crowd were looking with alarmed interest at the exchange. Molly slowly moved from the table as everyone eyed the beings. Slowly, moving towards Pepper. She was closer than everyone else was, but they hadn't seemed to take much interest in her.

"Not so fast." Talbot grabbed Molly. He held her in front of him as you always saw in hostage-human-shield situations. "This one is coming with us."

"You want our caterer?" Tony Stark asked confused. "Really, out of all the people here? No offense." He added quickly to her.

"None taken." Molly said, her heart beating fast. She was about to die. She was about to be killed by an alien, and she had never gotten her picture.

"Then perhaps we should just kill her." One of the other aliens suggested. He looked pretty much the same as Talbot, although his armor was a dark grey and seemed a little older and dirtier. His skin was darker too. Talbot's grip on her was hard, and she could feel her skin beginning to bruise. His hand was cold and smooth like a polished rock. It didn't feel like flesh. The armor he was wearing was dull spikes that stuck into her back

"Drop her." Barton had come back and was in the corner of the room by the bar, standing with a a bow and arrow in hand, aiming at the alien. And Molly. Talbot moved so that Molly was fully facing Clint. He was dead serious and grim, as if he expecting the worst but determined to fight against it.

"Ah, ah, ah." Talbot chided, sneering. "I'd put that away if I were you. You don't want someone to get hurt now, do you?" Out of one of his wrist guards a long curled blade popped out and he held it up to Molly's throat, pressing a little bit. She could feel it cut into her a little, a streak of blood running down her neck.

"What do you want? If you need more iridium, you're out of luck. I'm currently out of stock, and I don't know when the next shipment will be." Tony Stark asked, motioning with a hand for Clint to put down the arrow. Clint gently laid the weapon on the ground and pushed it forward with his foot a little bit. The knife came away from her throat but was not put away. It still hovered there as leverage over the superheroes. Maybe another person would be willing to be killed for the greater good, but Molly _really_ wanted to live.

"We would like information on the Perditrix." The room at this point was almost empty except for Pepper, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, and of course, Molly.

"The Perditrix? Never heard of it." Molly, who was still facing Clint, although Talbot's attention was directed to Tony, could see him quickly look at Stark and then back at Molly. Stark was lying. She really wished that he wouldn't. "You my friends are the center of a separate S.H.I.E.L.D. operation, A.R.R.O.W. You stolen something from a S.H.I.E.L.D. Facility and we would like it back, and I personally would like to know how you broke in."

"Stark." Clint warned, his voice low. He didn't move his gaze from Talbot. Stark rolled his eyes as Clint addressed the crashers. "You should already know all about the Perditrix since you've stolen Kendrick's Notes and our translations."

"The notes, the translations are incomplete. We're missing the key." Talbot answered.

"What key. You have everything we did?" Great. Tell the alien that they have _all _of the leverage. That'll save Molly's life.

"Apparently your Director has some secrets which he prefers to keep from you."

"I was only given basic information so that I could watch over it." Clint said.

"Are you sure that was the only information you were given? Where is the one with the key to the Perditrix?"

"The one?" Stark asked.

"Tell us. Where are they hidden?" The knife was back at Molly's throat with more pressure. So apparently the Avengers were on a mission from some agency she hadn't even heard of before. If she survived the aliens, then the agency, SHIELD was it?, was just going to kill her later. Her throat started to bleed a little more and now it stung.

"Molly!" Pepper gasped, putting her hands over her throat. Anger flashed across Clint's face as he struggled with the fact that he couldn't pick up his bow. Molly desperately wished that she could just go back to dancing with him. That was a lot better way to get to know him and his friends.

"Molly?" the alien repeated. He seemed almost…interested. The interest did nothing to alleviate the immediate threat on her life however, as the knife cut a little deeper. She was still in the clear as it wasn't close to hitting any arteries or anything yet, but she didn't want this to go any longer.

"Come on, let the girl go and you and I can talk it out." Tony Stark reasoned, reaching for Molly.

"I don't think so."

"I'll take you out someplace nice. There's a good Thai place down the street. You ever try Thai?" Why was he joking with someone who wanted to abduct and or kill her?

Suddenly there was a rush of sound, and behind her the alien fell away, the knife cutting her neck as it slid across the surface of her throat, falling away. Molly made a break for it, towards Pepper who grabbed her into a hug, before slowly releasing her grip as the two girls watched the scene. Barton had picked up his bow again and was pointing it at the alien. Stark was advancing too, despite the fact that he had no suit on. Captain America, fully suited up walked with the other two men.

"It's about time you got here Cap." Stark commented

"Thanks for stalling." Captain America ignored the jab. He must have started immediately suiting up as soon as the glass smashed. Talbot stood up from where he had fallen to the ground, the other two seemed fairly useless, as they hadn't done much except look where their leader fell and draw their weapons.

"Hate to break up the party, but we have to run." He vanished, and his companions took off through the hole they had already made in the window flying off. Barton let loose an arrow which hit one of them, but the alien continued to fly, pulling it off and throwing it to the ground. He took out another arrow, but Captain America stopped him.

"We just need the one."

"The one?" Pepper asked.

"Tracking chips." Stark explained to Pepper. "We had Barton put them on his arrow after our last run in."

"Let's look at that neck. Are you alright?" Captain America came over, looking at Molly's neck. She couldn't tell how bad it is, but she didn't feel like she was dying. Just bleeding. A LOT.

"I've been better." Molly said quietly, she didn't want to test the damage.

"Pepper, why don't you get some a towel and something to clean it." Tony suggested. Pepper headed off to the bar, and Molly was not looking forward to the alcohol that was about to be entered in her bloodstream. Clint came over, slinging his bow over his shoulder.

"She needs to go to the hospital." He said shortly, as Pepper came up with a wet rag. She gently pressed it to Molly's neck. Molly bit her lip hard to keep from crying and cursing up a storm.

"What do we say? Oh, she just had a brief run in with some aliens. Nothing too bad. I can stitch her up here. I've done self-repairs for years." Tony Stark objected.

"She's not a machine Stark." Clint argued. "There's a doctor affiliated with SHIELD close to here. I'll take her."

"I'm going with her." Pepper stated.

"Pepper—"

"What, do you think I'm going to stay here and clean? You two need to go to SHIELD and let them know that the Tower's been attacked. Clint and I will take care of Molly."

"Cupcakes." Molly whispered. Tony laughed and hit her on the back which pushed her into Pepper's hand which caused an inordinate amount of pain. She squeaked and Pepper glared and snapped at Tony. He winced.

"Sorry, Molly. I swear the next party will be much better." He seemed to feel bad.

"I'll make sure the cupcakes are taken care of, and your boss is called." Molly shook her head. If Diana found out that Molly had been attacked she'd shut down the catering, and Monarch needed the business.

"We have to go." Clint said urgently moving the girls to the elevator. Molly stood there wincing as Captain America and Iron Man waved to her before the doors shut, blocking her view.

"By the way Pepper?" Molly whispered as the elevator lowered itself, slowly through 90 floors.

"Yes?" Pepper looked worried.

"You look great."

* * *

**Ending Thoughts::** Soo? Reviews are MUCH appreciated and encourage me to write faster! (:


	6. Chapter Five

**(Chapter 5) Stitches**

**Author's Note:: **_I'm trying a new scene separator in which I use song lyrics. We'll see how it goes. The song I used here is "Hospital Beds" by Florence + the Machine. More importantly, please do not hold my lack of medical knowledge against me. Suspension of disbelief is much appreciated. Oh yes, and after much searching, I found that the perfect play by for Molly is Kate Beckinsale. Picture on my profile :)_

* * *

_There's nothing to do here  
All just lie and complain  
In bed at the hospital_

"Don't worry too much about applying pressure. Let's let the cut bleed a little bit." Clint instructed Pepper, who had not ceased her doting on Molly. She must have been feeling terrible for being the cause that Molly was attacked. Ok, well maybe not the sole cause, but if she hadn't hired Molly or asked her for a cupcake, maybe Molly wouldn't have been in this position. Pepper reluctantly took away the towel that was now much more red than it had been when she first found it. Suddenly Molly seemed to be overcome by a wave of dizziness, as she fell back against the elevator. Pepper quickly reached to help her, but it was Clint's strong grasp that saved her from smacking her head against the back wall and sinking to the floor. It reminded her of when she had fallen when they were dancing. She was always falling around him.

"Molly, are you alright?" Pepper asked nervously. In her eyes this had to have law suit written all over it, but Molly didn't exactly blame her enough to take away a lot of money from Stark Industries. She believed in the company and its new foray into the field of energy. Still, the question 'Are you alright?' seemed a bit ridiculous to ask Molly. Her throat had been cut. She was very obviously NOT all right. Pepper seemed to realize this for she winced a little and didn't press further. Clint gently released her elbow as the elevator slowed down coming to a halt at the ground floor. Molly went to take a step forward and again felt overcome, this time faint as well as dizzy, as she stumbled backwards. Clint and Pepper both steadied her this time, gently guiding her from out of the elevator and down a small ramp to the garage. There was only a small scattering of cars left, including the large Monarch Bakery truck that was parked nearby.

Molly's head felt like it was spinning somewhere up above her, maybe left on the 90th floor. She felt faint and dizzy and a little bit nauseous. Finally it was beginning to sink in. Someone had almost _killed_ her. An _alien_ had almost killed her. An alien had almost killed _her. _And it wasn't even her fault. She had been taken hostage—by an alien—for something that didn't even have anything to do with her. Her throat had been cut (even though the cut didn't seem to be that bad), and she didn't even know why. Her only guess was that these were fairly sadistic beings. And by the way, what in the world was a Perditrix? And who (or maybe she should say what) was this SHIELD? And what was going on? This was just completely ridiculous. And if her throat hadn't been cut, maybe she would have been tempted to laugh. Maybe. All she wanted to do was give people delicious cupcakes and make money. Now her throat hurt like hell. She could cry. Maybe she was dying. It didn't feel like it though. Didn't people normally know when they were in the last few minutes of their life?

"Molly?" Pepper asked loudly and worriedly. She must have been trying to get Molly's attention for a while. Pepper was looking intently at her. "Clint, stop for a second. She's very pale." The redhead turned to face Molly, taking the baker's wrist and holding a couple of fingers to it.

"Feel this. It seems fast." She handed Molly's arm over to the man who looked dead serious as he shifted his gaze from her wrist to her face.

"Shit." He whispered, not moving his gaze from Molly's face. "Her lips are going blue." Molly felt a little indignant at being talked about as if she wasn't even there, although half a minute ago when she had been talked to she hadn't responded. Perhaps they were a bit justified.

"She's a little cold too." Pepper whispered back, joining Clint in looking anxiously into Molly's face. Panic began to mount in Molly. What was going wrong? Had the cut already gotten infected? Was there something else she had to worry about? Quite frankly, she had had quite enough already tonight. She had been taken hostage. Someone had almost killed her. There was a minor déjà vu feeling about this sentiment, but she continued the train of thought anyway. What if she had died? Her mother could have gone into another lapse and with no one there to take care of her, the whole McKay family would be wiped out and in a span of only about sixteen years. Unreal.

It was only when they stopped at a car that Molly realized that Pepper and Clint were no longer looking at her, but had started moving quickly to a vehicle. Clint reached forward and pulled open the back door, helping Molly bend down to get in. He gently coaxed her to turn around so that her back was facing the door and her legs were stretched out across the backseat. He shut the door, and Molly leaned back against it. Suddenly his face appeared over her feet. He looked stern as his lips moved, and she watched with dazed interest until it registered that he was trying to get her attention.

"You need to slow down your breathing. In…out…in…out…" he demonstrated, taking slow deep breaths. He didn't' stop until Molly began to follow along. Clint leaned in further, reaching over her body to tenderly treat her wound, wiping away the blood as Molly continued to breath. In….out….in….out….alien….attack….almost….killed…..in….out….. In the middle of her breath, Molly realized that Clint's arms were around her and unzipping her dress, and then pulling it down a little bit so that the extra fabric was bunched around her waist. She began to shiver. Now hardly seemed like the time to be doing this, and she was never one for the back seat. She much preferred beds. Then there was warmth as Clint draped his jacket over her recently bare skin. Pepper handed him another blanket that had to have been located somewhere in the car, and he placed that over Molly too. "This should help with the shock." He muttered, and sure enough the shivering did die down. Clint went to close the door when Molly weakly moved to stop him.

"How bad?" she whispered.

He paused.

"I've seen worse." Clint extracted himself and closed the door on her, moving to the driver's seat. Pepper had apparently already slipped into the passenger's side at some point.

"Everything's going to be just fine, Molly." She said giving what she probably thought was a reassuring smile from where she had turned in her seat. "It's really not as bad as it looks. Like a shaving cut."

"_Bullshit."_ Molly thought as they tore out of the parking lot. And then she was back to her same thoughts, going through the entire incident in her head. Why hadn't she hidden with the cupcakes? Why hadn't she dived away quickly when she heard the shatter and scream? Why did the alien repeat her name? What was going on?

The car seemed to tear through the street as it raced to the hospital. They pulled up into the Emergency Room parking lot and Clint and Pepper seemed to be moving a lot faster instead of the languid, gentle movements that they had had in the parking garage. Clint took away the blanket and jacket, and Pepper re-zipped Molly's dress, before quickly getting out of the way. Clint instructed Molly to sit in the seat properly and then reached down, gathering her into his arms as Pepper closed the door, and hurried in front of them to begin the process of getting Molly a room. Molly clung to Clint, still feeling out of it. She was a bit better than in the parking garage, but her head was still weird and she was still shivering a little. The pair came in to find Pepper arguing with one of the nurses there.

"Well, why didn't you call an ambulance?"

"Why does that matter? We need to get her seen right away. This is important Avengers business."

"I don't care who you are. There are plenty of people in this room who have been waiting for a while?"

"And how many of them have had their throat cut?" Pepper asked hotly.

"Listen, if she didn't die within the time it took to get her here, she'll be able to wait ten more minutes." Flawed logic if Molly ever heard it. Clint walked up to the desk.

"We need to see Dr. Krusen right now." He stated firmly.

"Listen, I've already been telling _her_ that—" the nurse started, and Clint gently set Molly down. Pepper hurried to hold onto Molly, and steady her. Clint reached into his pocket and shoved two things across the desk. The nurse looked suspiciously at the items, as he leaned forward and whispered lowly to her. Molly could hardly pay attention to people who were talking to her, let alone listen in on hushed conversations. All she knew was that in the next second, the nurse came out with a wheel chair and pushed her into one of the rooms. The rest of the night passed by in snip bits of memory.

* * *

_Coming and going_

_Asleep and awake  
In bed at the hospital_

Molly could remember being picked up from her chair and deposited onto a narrow hospital bed. It was then adjusted so that she was sitting up, and soon afterward a tall man (definitely over six feet tall, possibly 6'4") entered the room. He was tan, with brown, hooded eyes. His hair was curly and dark brown, almost black. He was younger looking than she might have expected. Probably only in his forties. Still, he had a studious, stern look about him as he walked in and directly to her, not saying a word to Clint or Pepper. He looked at the wound, walking around her bed to get a view of it from the other side. He took her pulse, and then finally turned to face Clint and Pepper. He didn't say anything, but Clint began talking as if the doctor had asked a question.

"Cut to the throat. Not sure how deep it is or if anything inside was hit. She seems to be going into physiological shock." There was no information given or further inquiry as to just _how _she had gotten the cut. The doctor nodded as if that had confirmed what he found, before a nurse came in and he motioned to the door. Clint and Pepper exited, leaving Molly alone to be cleaned up and stitched up by the doctor. She phased in and out of what was going on about her, only truly paying attention once her two escorts re-entered the room. The doctor took gloves off of his hands as he faced them.

"The cut wasn't bad. It was a little deep over here," the doctor gestured to the side of her neck where the blade had cut her as it fell away. "and that caused most of the bleeding. The larynx, pharynx, arteries, all of the important stuff were missed. Surprisingly the shock was not physiological. Whatever caused this was traumatic enough to send her into psychological shock." He paused, probably for effect. "Most of the symptoms have faded, and she should be completely fine in a few hours. She's free to be released. I'll pass the information onto the Director."

"Is there any treatment we should be aware of?" Clint asked.

"Don't overexert the throat. No screaming or yelling. Drink a lot of fluids and eat soft foods for a couple of days. The stitches are dissolvable. No return visit is required unless something goes wrong."

Clint thanked him and the doctor nodded and left the room. The pair then came over to the bed to help Molly out. Molly cautiously moved so that her legs were dangling over the bed.

"Are you feeling any better?" Pepper asked. Molly reached up to touch the recently stitched wound.

"Don't do that." Clint reprimanded sharply. Molly let her hand fall back down.

"I'm tired." She yawned, as if to prove the point to Pepper. The party had already been going pretty late, but all of the stress of being attacked really took a lot of energy out of her. It was pretty much all she could do to keep her eyes open and her head up.

"I bet." Pepper said looking at her. "We're going to take you home and then you can get a good night's sleep."

"They don't need to keep me?" Molly asked. She sounded like a confused six year old.

"No." Clint answered. This SHIELD doctor or whoever he was must have been able to change general procedures, because Molly was pretty sure that most people would at least stay overnight in the hospital after getting their throat cut. Although apparently it hadn't been that bad? She could hardly think straight. Bed sounded nice.

"Oh, alright." She said as she gently slid onto the floor. Her shoes were gone. What happened to her heels? She looked down at her bare feet and Pepper followed the gaze.

"You took off your shoes in the car." She informed softly.

"Oh." Molly repeated.

"Can you walk now?" Pepper asked as Molly took a step forward.

"I'm not taking any chances." Clint ignored Molly's progress taking her arm and placing it over his shoulders, gently placing the other around Molly's waist. Pepper moved ahead to open the door and the three made progress much more quickly than if Molly had been trusting in herself. She was exhausted, and injured, and apparently coming out of shock. More than anything she was glad that she was with people who obviously had some sort of disaster training. If she was going to get hurt in an alien invasion, why not in the presence of a superhero who knows how to help her? That was the last thing Molly remembered for a little while.

* * *

_I've got one friend  
Laying across from me  
I did not choose him  
He did not choose me_

The next thing she knew, she was waking up in her bed. Her apartment was dark, and as she turned her head to check the time on her clock, she could see that it was still night. There was a dim light shining to her right. Molly turned and saw that the small light that was used to light up her kitchenette area, specifically so she could see what she was doing on the counter, was on. A dark figure was standing with their back towards her. Molly sat up straight, fumbling around for the gun that she kept under her bed. She didn't know what she would do with it. If the sight of the gun didn't scare the intruder off, she'd be screwed. Even if the gun had bullets in it, Molly could never pull the trigger. She couldn't take anything's life, and the sight of death made her sick. Any death. She'd once hit a bird with her car and she had had to pull over and sit back to overcome the wave of nausea that immediately hit her when she heard the sickening _thwump._ She hadn't even been able to eat for the rest of the day. Her mother had insisted that she have a gun to keep her safe, Molly hadn't even wanted it, but she was glad she had it now. That was, until she heard the voice.

"She's sleeping right now." Clint? Molly sat up, abandoning her attempt to find the weapon. "The shock seems to be gone. Pepper Potts had been here taking care of her. She left about twenty minutes ago." She could almost recognize him now as her eyes got adjusted to the semi-darkness. He was on the phone. "Stark and the Captain are on it." He turned a little, and Molly thought that he was going to see her sitting up in her bed staring at him, but his back remained twoards her as he listened intently on the phone. He lifted a hand to rub his eyes or his temples. Molly couldn't tell from where she was. "Yes, sir." Pause. "Yes, sir?" Longer pause. "Yes, sir. My thoughts exactly." He hung up the phone and without any warning turned around so that he was facing her. There was only a flash of surprise that caught his face as his hand shifted towards his belt, but he let it fall as he realized that it was only Molly. And then there was the awkward pause in which they both remained frozen, caught by the other's stare. Clint crossed the room before he addressed her.

"How are you feeling?" His eyes glanced over her body, assessing. She realized that she was no longer in the cocktail dress, but in a pair of her pajamas. She hoped that Pepper had been the one to root through her drawers and then helped her get changed. Maybe Molly had done it herself. It was odd that she couldn't remember.

"Better." Molly said quietly. She was surprised to find that her voice had worked its way out of a whisper. "You're here?"

"Pepper had to leave to take care of things at the Tower. She wanted someone to keep an eye on you in case you woke up and needed anything. Do you?" he asked. Molly's brow wrinkled as he quickly clarified. "Need anything?"

"No." she responded looking up at him from her position on the bed. He looked intently at her, as if searching for some sort of sign. Molly wished she could help him find whatever it was he was looking for. "Thank you."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry." She hadn't been expecting the apology. Especially one as seemingly sincere as what he was offering. They looked at each other for a second more, and then Molly reached and took hold of his hand, hoping to communicate some form of forgiveness. That was the last thing Molly remembered before she woke up the second time.

* * *

_Laying in hospitals  
Joy and misery_

This time the room was empty. Molly slowly sat up in the bed, feeling her throat now that Clint wasn't here to stop her. There was a raised line where the cut had been and the stitches now were. Her throat hurt to touch and it throbbed slightly even after she took her hand away. Apparently he had known what he was talking about. The doctor too. She definitely wasn't going to be doing much talking. She wondered when Clint had left and felt a slight tinge of sadness at the fact that she was now completely alone. It wasn't like she needed someone there to help her. She was feeling much better, just slightly shaken still. At least this would be a cool story to tell her kids, or anyone who asked. Except her boss. But Molly really didn't want to lie to her…except, she had to if she ever wanted to cater again. Maybe she could see about a plastic surgeon, because this was definitely going to scar. And then she remembered that she still had to call out.

Molly pushed the covers away and stood up out of bed. The dizziness had faded, and for the first time she felt clearheaded. She walked over to her phone, resting on the windowsill near her dresser but was distracted by a vase of yellow and white daisies with a bright red note attached to it. Next to it was her purse and shoes. She must have left the shoes in the car, and the purse had to have been at the Tower. Molly reached and detached the note from one of the white daisies.

_Dear Molly, _

_I hope you're feeling better today. We let your boss know that you wouldn't be coming into work for a couple of days because of a family emergency. The media hasn't caught wind of the whole hostage situation considering that everyone who might have seen had already left the room, so you should be left in peace. If you need anything give a call. _

_Pepper Potts_

Well, that was kind of her. Attached to another daisy was Pepper's business card. Molly put the note down on the table and stood thinking for a second. She really wished that Pepper hadn't lied for her. The intentions were good, but Molly never lied. She just didn't like all of the work they took to maintain, and she knew she hated being lied to, so she just never did it. It was a thing. Of course, it seemed like this was an issue of national security, so maybe this could actually be a justified lie? It still didn't sit right with Molly, but she had other things to worry about. Namely: what was she supposed to do with her day? Usually she had stuff to do on her day off, but today she was completely free. First thing was first, though: she had to get dressed. Molly walked to her closet and grabbed out a white belted dress and then sorted through her collection of scarves, settling on a teal one with small white polka dots to hide her neck.

Maybe she didn't have to lie to her boss about the scar or spend money on a plastic surgeon. She could just wear scarves for the rest of her life. Throwing her pajamas into the hamper in the bathroom, Molly was again stuck with what she was going to do today. She had to avoid all of the normal places because of the "family emergency" and she couldn't actually see her mother, because somehow, her mother would just know that something was wrong. So, it was either go hang out in an extremely crowded or isolated place where no one would recognize her, or stay at home. Maybe she could play around in her kitchen a little today. She had been meaning to work on some new recipes for the shop anyway, this would be a productive way to spend her day and she could still stay within her own self-imposed rules.

Molly rooted through her cabinets to check to see what sort of ingredients she had and what she would still need. Running low on flour, desperately in need of sugar, depending on how many batches she may need some more milk. Molly quick made a shopping list and after searching Google for a different grocery store than the one she regularly went to, left her apartment and hailed a cab.

* * *

**Ending Thoughts::** Sorry this took so long to get out, and that I cut this chapter in half. Second part should be out shortly! Theories and thoughts as always appreciated :) I say this EVERY chapter, but I absolutely love reading all of the reviews I get. I especially want to thank **peacey2005**, **AgentBlindSide**, and **Said the Silence** for reviewing after every chapter.


	7. Chapter Six

**(Chapter 6) Rough Time**

**Author's Note:: **_I hope you haven't given up on me. The beginning may be a little slow, but the end is worth it. Anyway, the lyrics come from the song "The Consequence of Sounds" by Regina Spektor which had a lot of good lyrics for this chapter, but I couldn't fit them all in._

* * *

_My words don't travel far,  
They tangle in my hair,  
And tend to go nowhere,  
They grow right back inside_

Molly pulled the batch of cupcakes out of the oven. She had been working on a couple of recipes since yesterday and was stuck on the idea of a dark chocolate (and she was talking 80-85% dark) cupcake. She had tried different combinations of the batter with walnuts, raspberry filling, peanut butter, and vanilla cream, but none of them had the depth of flavor that she was looking for. Sure, they tasted okay and were pretty enough, but something just wasn't right about them. They just needed…_something_. It was this type of puzzle, the mystery of which flavors were missing and what to combine together to make the best cupcake that made her love baking. Baking required actual skill. There were so many fields in which her memory would be the only thing she was used for but not baking. Anyone could memorize a recipe; it was the execution of it, and playing with it, and using her skills to sell her creations that made her good at her job.

Her phone went off suddenly, causing Molly to jump a little in surprise. She dug it out of her pocket and checked the caller ID; it was her boss. She was honestly a little surprised that it had taken Dianna so long to call her; Molly rarely called out.

"Hello?" Molly's voice was still a little soft, but it was much clearer than it had been yesterday or when she had been talking with Pepper and Clint the night before that. Talking still stung her throat. Not the inside as much, like the part that hurts when you have a sore throat. It was more the cut that hurt.

"Molly? Did I just wake you up?" Apparently her voice wasn't as good as she thought it was.

"No." Molly answered, offering no further explanation. She checked her watch, wondering what time it was. 5:23 in the afternoon. What an odd time to be waking up.

"I just wanted to check in on you. How is your family?" Molly had almost forgotten about the excuse that Pepper had provided.

"They're doing alright." Molly said, feeling bad that her words had a bit of a twisted meaning. At least, she didn't have to outright lie.

"And you, how are you feeling?"

"I'm doing better. Thanks."

"I was really worried about you! You never call out, and I'd saw on the news about the aliens breaking into the Stark Tower on the news. I figured something had happened to you there. I was a little bit relieved to hear that you weren't staying away for your own health."

"Thank you for thinking of me." Molly said, sidestepping any comment about that whole incident. The pain in her throat increased into a burning sensation. She hated when it acted up like this. The longer she made noise, the worse it hurt. It made sense, but it was still annoying.

"I wanted to call earlier, but then I thought that if you were still in the middle of the emergency, I would just be disrupting you, and it would be better to call after a day had passed."

"Thank you for being so considerate." Molly remarked. The more she thanked, the less she had to explain herself and lie.

"Don't thank me just yet. I was also calling to see if I could pin an exact date on when my best baker is coming back."

"All goes well, you should see me in tomorrow." Molly made the executive decision that she had spent more than enough time away from work. Even though her throat still hurt and her voice wasn't that great, she could hide the throat and avoid talking to people by making herself busy.

"Tomorrow?" Dianna was obviously elated.

"If that works for you." Molly said.

"As soon as I can get my baker back, the better." Dianna said.

"Ok, I'll talk to you tomorrow then." Molly said, gently holding her throat.

"Alright. Thank you, Molly." Dianna hung up and Molly followed suit, tucking the phone back in her pocket. She paused for a second, looking at her kitchen which was still sort of a mess from the day of baking, and decided to go out for dinner.

* * *

_The weather report keeps on_

_Tossing and turning,_

_Predicting and warning,_

_And warning and warning of,_

_Possible leakage from news publications and,  
Possible leakage from news TV stations._

Molly gasped as she jolted awake. The room seemed to jolt with her before clearing into the familiar sight. It was still dark out, and so the room appeared to take on a dark blue hue. The computer was safe on its desk, all of the books were stacked neatly on the bookshelf, over in the kitchen the remaining dishes sat in the drying rack. Everything was quiet and still and normal. Well, close. Her alarm began to start its quiet beeping, as it quickly picked up both in tempo and volume. Molly reached over to hit the reset button, but as she turned her legs were caught in a twisting of the sheets, almost throwing her out of the bed. The majority of her covers were on the floor and the sheets that had stayed on were tangled with her legs. One of her pillows was over by the radiator. She was hot, and the bed seemed to reflect it, as it seemed to emanate warmth. As she wiped her eyes to wake up, she felt sweat. Her throat was throbbed a little; she must have been talking or moaning in her sleep. She had had a good reason too. It had been a horrible nightmare.

She remembered that she had been running through dark halls that made up a sort of a never-ending maze. She kept running and running because it was after her. Finally she came to two doors and her parents were there helping her, coaxing her and telling her which one to go through, and when she finally made the choice, her parents went through with her and her dad hugged her. But the thing hadn't given up and then it was in the doorway, and she could see it coming for her, and that's when she woke up.

Horrible. And the worst part about dreams where she spent the whole time running was that she woke up completely exhausted and terrified for her life. Molly checked the clock. Ten past four. Time to start getting ready for work. Molly jumped into the shower and quickly changed into a comfortable pair of jeans with a loose white shirt and a chartreuse ruffled scarf. She quickly slipped on a pair of boots, grabbed her purse and made her way out the door at 4:53.

Molly loved the ten-minute walk to Monarch Bakery. It was the quiet, the sense of the community as the city slowly woke up from its sleep and winded down preparing to go to bed after a long night. 4:50 in the morning was one of the peaceful times, when all of the people who were out on the street walking with her, weren't on their phones, but in their own sphere. Event he cars that rumbled by seemed quieter. In the grey of the morning, the lights of the city weren't as harsh as they were in contrast against the dark night, and the sun hadn't come out yet to take over it's job of lighting everything up. It was the ten minutes of in between time. The one time you might see one New Yorker on his way to work smile at another, and the other would smile back. She recognized almost everyone on her walk to work too. There was the musician who wore the grey-checkered fedora and carried the patched guitar case. The businesswoman whose hair was always pin straight in its chin length bob. She never put it up or put clips in it. Her friend was there too. She always wore the same dark red heels. Most of the time there was somebody trying to avoid the more public the walk of shame. There were others who were sometimes there and sometimes not, and Molly loved all of them. Even if she didn't know their names. Monarch Bakery was beautiful too. It was tucked away, and the way the sun slowly lit up the display case as it came up was magical. It was the little things. Molly's nightmare melted away along with the rest of the night.

Molly unlocked the shop and walked in causing the bells over the top of the door to jingle a little bit. Dianna came out of the back and at the sight of Molly, smiled. The owner of Monarch Bakery was a petite woman who stood at about 5'3". She had long straight dirty blonde hair that brushed her mid back and usually wore black slacks and some type of button up shirt. Her fingernails were always painted a dusty rose and perfectly filed. Dianna was an accountant turned entrepreneur who had, at about thirty-five decided that she needed to quit her job and start a bakery. Of course she only had a marginal idea of how to run a business, and her knowledge of baking was that she loved cupcakes. As a result, she did most of the behind the scenes work of the bakery, managing the book, buying ingredients, hiring people, keeping track of the deliveries that needed to be made and making sure that all of the codes were upheld. Still, despite her lack of knowledge, her determination (and possibly a little bit of luck) built Monarch up into the thing it was now, almost fourteen years later.

Dianna crossed the store quickly and hugged Molly. They weren't particularly close, but Molly probably would have hugged one of her employees who just went though a "family emergency."

"I'm so glad you're back. Saoirse has been doing her best, but Monarch just isn't the same without Molly." Dianna complimented, having stepped back. She was now holding Molly's arms and looking at her in the same way someone's Aunt who they hadn't seen for a couple of years would. She released her, but stood in front of Molly, blocking her from the kitchen. "I like the scarf."

"Me too. I thought I'd start wearing them more often."

"Yeah." Dianna nodded her consent. "You wear them well." There was a pause as the two women looked at each other. "Well, I'm going to let you get to work!" she allowed, moving out of Molly's way so that she could get back to the kitchen. Molly entered the kitchen, unaware of how much two days away could make her miss her second home. Immediately she tied on a white apron and got to work. The sounds of the mixers were relaxing. A droning sense of normal, which was nice. Normal was something she sort of needed. Two alien encounters had given her enough excitement for the next year, she was happy to get back to work and get her hands dirty. Molly checked the whiteboard on which Dianna listed the cupcake flavors for the day. She'd finished the Boston Cream, Deadly Sins, Grasshopper, HazelNuts, Mary Sue and Yurtle, now all she had left were the Emerald, Sapphire, Ruby and the Florida, and half of those cupcakes were in the oven. The finished cupcakes were placed on trays to be put up in the front as well as on the stacked trays that lunch ladies used to store the cookies. Pretty soon she was wrapping up the final batch of cupcakes, placing the last of the candied oranges on the Floridas. Dianna stuck her head in the back of the room.

"You ready to open?"

Molly looked at the trays in front of her carefully adjusting the cupcakes so that she could take them to the display without having them fall into one another. Hilary, one of the other bakers, was taking out the last of the cookies. The pies and breads were done. The muffins were done. She couldn't think of anything else she was waiting on. "I think so." She took her apron off before lifting the tray to transfer the cupcakes into the case. After the baking was done, she went to breakfast, then came back and worked the register until about halfway through the day where she would take a lunch, come back to do any more baking for any deliveries or catering, and then work the front again until she left at about two. Monarch had a small staff, so everyone did a little bit of everything. There were a few specialists, like the girl who worked the front on Molly's day off, or Hilary for example, who was just a baker, but in general they all pitched in. That was probably what made Monarch so successful. Molly sat on the stool behind the counter, waiting for the customers to come. She was glad to be back.

* * *

_That very same morning right next to her coffee  
She noticed some bleeding and heard hollow coughing and  
National Geographic was being too graphic,  
When all she had wanted to know was the traffic  
"The worlds got a nosebleed" it said  
_

Saoirse had arrived sometime during Molly's lunch, and now at 1:45 in the afternoon the two girls were finally able to talk together as the remainder of the people running to get sweets on their lunch break exited the store. "I missed you! I heard what happened at Tony Stark's party. That's two parties in a row. It's like they're following you." Saoirse had meant it as a tease, but it was something that Molly had been thinking about. Then again there were other, far more important people, who had been at both parties. Like, Tony Stark for example. Or Clint. Even Pepper. Seriously, she should have known after taking the gig at Tony Stark's party that there was a very good possibility that some sort of being would attack. Recently everyone was crawling out of the universe.

"I hope not. I've got enough on my plate already." Molly commented.

"Oh," Saoirse turned sympathetic. "That's right. I heard that you had something happen to a family. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really, no." Molly was glad that Saoirse had given the option. "Besides, I'm betting that you want to talk more about the party."

"Well, yeah." Saoirse said as if it was obvious. "I mean, everyone has questions about it." She dropped her voice a little bit. "No one's in the panic stage yet, because the Avengers have been making their involvement pretty public, and after the Chitauri Invasion, people believe that they can handle it. It's just, if it doesn't get wrapped up soon, what does that mean for the rest of us, you know? I mean two attacks at really prominent parties, and this is the second invasion in the past three months. People are going to start getting scared. Soon."

"I know what you're saying." Molly nodded. She was already scared.

"I mean like, they're already starting to get hurt. You know there've been reports that Pepper Potts and Hawkeye were seen leaving the Tower supporting someone. A couple of "eye witnesses" saw them putting someone in the car and then speeding away, but by the time the news got to the hospital, they'd either already left or the body had been taken care of." She said darkly, pausing for it to sink in. "I mean what happened up at that party?" Molly's heart pounded, hoping that she wouldn't be put in a position to lie.

"I wish I could tell you." Molly breathed out, attempting to make it sound as if it had all been a blur and not like she was hiding something. She was about to continue when Saoirse interrupted her.

"Yeah, that's true. You'd already left by then because of your family. I'm sorry Molly, but thank God for whatever happened." Molly looked at her, confused. She had assumed that Saoirse had been talking to her about everything because she knew Molly was there when it all happened. Apparently that was not the case. Saoirse read the look on her face and filled in the gaps.

"Well, when the truck was still gone yesterday, Dianna started to freak out a little bit because she assumed that you had ben killed or something, but then Pepper Potts came by to deliver the truck and to explain that you'd gotten a call and needed to leave the party early to see about your family. You'd missed the alien incident completely. She had everything paid for and was raving about how much she loved the cupcakes and you, it put Dianna back in a good spirit. She had to leave pretty quick though, and I can imagine. Stark Tower seems to be a magnet for alien destruction."

"Yeah." Molly nodded. So it was as if she hadn't even been there. At least Pepper tried to make it so that people wouldn't ask Molly too many questions about the incident, although Molly had almost blew it herself.

"Molly." Dianna appeared from the back. "You can take off a little early if you want. I know you've had a hard couple of days."

"Thanks." Molly smiled, moving out from behind the counter so that Saoirse could take over at the register. "You don't need anything else from me?"

"No, you're good." Dianna smiled back before disappearing into her tiny office, which had once been used as a large closet.

"I'll see you tomorrow. You wanna do lunch?" Saoirse asked.

"Sure, sounds good. The Indian buffet?"

"Sounds delicious." Molly smiled, grabbing her purse from the back room, before waving to Saoirse as she exited the building.

The walk home wasn't as peaceful or beautiful as the walk to the store. Instead it was typical New York City, people rushing about, everyone on their phones, many people with brief cases, many people wearing interesting outfits, and few except for the tourists who had the time to stop and take in everything going on around them. Molly was no exception, and quickly walked home. Her throat hurt from having to talk all day, and she just wanted time to relax and watch the news, so she could figure out what it would make sense for her to know and what it wouldn't make sense for her to know.

* * *

_Whad'ya think?  
All the gravediggers were gone?  
Just cause one song is done  
There's always another one,  
Waiting right around the bend,  
Till this one ends,  
Then it begins_

Molly quickly made her way up to the apartment, unlocking quickly so she could get in and relax. The door swung open and she walked inside, closing and re-locking the door behind her. It was a habit that she had picked up in her first days of owning the apartment, and hadn't been so keen to try to shake. Sure, she had the gun for protection, but as she had already covered, the gun wasn't really a great option for her. Molly extracted the key from her lock and walked down the small little hall to her greater apartment and was frozen in her tracks. Her apartment was in shambles. There were papers everywhere. Half the pictures were torn off the walls. Her computer's screen was a jumble of binary code. All of the kitchen cabinets were open and emptied. Molly's mouth open and shut a couple of times as she assessed the damage. Someone had broken into her apartment. But the door had been locked. She took a quick glance at the windows, which were all still locked shut. It was in this second glance that she noticed the alien emerging from where it stood hunched over her bookshelf by the desk. It looked at her and grinned a little. Molly turned and ran back towards the door and faced another alien. No, it was the same one. She recognized him, because it was the alien who grabbed her. Talbot. He either had a twin brother or he teleported. But teleportation wasn't real. Then again, neither were demi-gods. He smiled and took a step towards Molly.

"Well, now. It's about time you got back." He sneered. He didn't bother taking another step. "I suppose I'd better adhere to human customs and give you the chance to do things the easy way and come quietly."

Molly gulped, causing her throat to throb even more than it had previously. She had to work not to cover it with her hand. She glanced around the apartment looking for some sort of weapon or noisemaker. Of course they would attack her when she couldn't scream.

"It's such a stupid phrase, because no one ever comes, and it's much more fun to do it the hard way." He didn't wait for her answer. Of course she wouldn't have come quietly. But still. Molly lunged and grabbed a cast iron skillet, holding it in her hands.

"Do you _really_ think that's going to stop me?" he asked, laughing. "You'd be better off screaming for help. Oh." he said, pretending as if he'd forgotten how he'd almost slit her throat.

"You bastard." Molly hissed.

"So, tell me. Where is the information on the Perditrix?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Molly asserted as firmly as possible.

"Don't play dumb. You know more than you're letting on. You were at the party, _and_ the gala." How had he known? "Pretty arrogant of you humans to think that you could hide the most valuable game piece in plain sight. Of course they would try to hide you in your apartment. With any other human, they'd hide away at a friend's or in a government's safe house. But not you. You are special, so they'd have to hide you some place people overthought."

"They're not hiding me anywhere. I'm here because I live here, and I have a job, and I need to rest because of my throat."

"As much as I enjoy a good game, we don't need to keep this one up. I'm growing tired. I know who you are Molly. I know all about your friends. I know about the knowledge you hold. All I need you to do is come with me and tell me what I don't know."

"Look, _I don't know _what you're talking about. I was just a caterer at those events. I don't know any of the Avengers personally or whoever they work for or what the Perditrix does. Just get out please." Molly said backing against her bookshelf as Talbot advanced.

"You've dragged me in circles long enough. We let you live and let you go so you could lead us to the information and the base and so we could retrieve you later. Now where is it?"

"You didn't let me go. Captain America…" Molly stuttered. She was much more shaken by the fact that he "let her go."

"We gave up rather easily, don't you think? Especially since we can do this—" He was behind her in a second. Molly gasped, almost screamed and her throat hurt, as she dodged as he reached to grab for her. She ran to the other side of the apartment, and he popped up there. She looked around panicked as he advanced. She needed someone to save her. There was no way she could get out of this. Molly's eyes drifted to the window as a plan formed. She would need a lot of luck, but with all of her bad luck recently, she was due. Right?

Molly bolted as if heading for the door and he watched for a second before appearing at the door. She turned to the window, letting the pan fall to the ground as she quickly undid the lock and then threw the window open. She leaned outside, crawling onto the fire escape, scrambling back onto her feet, as she ran down the metal stairs, hopping to make as much noise as possible. And then Talbot was there, walking up the stairs.

"Clever. Playing to my own assumptions. I won't make that mistake again." He said as she turned and ran back to her apartment, tears beginning to fall down her face. So this was it. At least she had a kind of cool death.

He popped up in front of her, and she switched directions again, slowly walking backwards down the stairs as he matched her pace walking towards her.

"You may pretend to be some "caterer," but we both know who you are."

"I'm not pretending _anything_!" Molly sobbed, as he grabbed her arm.

"Yours is a persistent race, I'll admit that." His grip tightened and then loosened as his reflexes kicked in. An arrow was sticking up out of his arm, Molly took the opportunity to wrench her arm from his grip and run down the stairs as quickly as possible. He growled and started to follow her, his footsteps pounding and shaking the fire escape as he raced after her, anger and pain obviously clouding his mind. There was a loud clattering behind Molly as if someone had fallen onto the fire escape. Despite herself, she chanced a glance over her shoulder and saw Clint standing there in hand-to-hand combat with Talbot. She paused, watching as the hero who had materialized form out of nowhere saved her life now for the second time. Suddenly Talbot was gone, and he appeared in front of her. Molly quickly tried to scramble backwards up the staircase, and stumbled, tripping on the stairs and landing hard. She was stuck. Talbot advanced swiftly, however a second before he could reach her there was a soft "thuk" and another arrow pierced his shoulder, close to his heart.

The alien glared up at Clint, and made another grab for Molly. Clint fired another arrow, that hit just under and to the left of where the first arrow had hit. Closer still to the kill shot. Talbot stopped, looked Molly dead in the eye, and then vanished. Molly looked around, still clinging onto the fire escape as Clint climbed on the railing and slid down for a little bit so that he landed in font of her, holding out his hands. She looked at his hands and then up at him, before she hesitatingly took them. He pulled her up easily, steadying her.

"We have to go."

_And I'd like to turn them down  
But there ain't no knob.  
Run into picket fences  
Not into picket lines._

* * *

_**Ending Thoughts:: **So I know I've been away for a while, but if you have time and would like to review or follow or just show some love, it'll really push me to write a lot faster.  
_


	8. Chapter Seven

**(Chapter 7) Under Orders**

**Author's Note:: **_WOW. I can't express how grateful I am to all of your amazing reviews. I apologize for the time it took me to get out this chapter, but as an extra thank you I made it pretty long. You guys are absolutely amazing. I'm so thankful that you're sticking with me. Now onto the story._

* * *

_Always, always on the lookout_

_But the poison's running through you_

_Stomachaches, try to concentrate_

_Want the stairs on the third floor_

Molly followed Clint back up the fire escape to her apartment window. He re-entered in one fluid motion, quickly moving further into her apartment to where the alien had been standing. She heard him call out a few names, Stark being one of them. Molly stood there for a second taking a breath. Her adrenaline was dropping from the peak levels that it had been working at just two minutes earlier. As the fear started to subside, the shock began to set in. The same alien had attacked her twice. She couldn't write this one off as a "wrong place at the wrong time" thing. This one had been purposeful. They were coming for her. Remembering that she was supposed to be moving quickly to leave, Molly moved to go into her apartment. She cautiously she stuck one leg through the window, ducking so that she was about halfway in and halfway out of her apartment. Her leg on the fire escape stood on tiptoe, hoping to help the other leg reach over the bookcase and find the floor. After a few seconds of searching, her foot made contact with the floor, and she pushed herself into the room, hopping on her one leg as she attempted to get the other out of the window and away from the bookcase. She could feel herself falling and quickly threw her hands out in front of her, resting her weight on her hands as she kept herself on her feet and finally steadied herself enough to bring herself upright. She hadn't been nearly as smooth in entering her apartment, as she had been when she was leaving it fifteen minutes ago.

Clint stood in the middle of the room, surveying the mess and giving orders to the empty room. She could only guess that he was talking into an earpiece. He seemed to have missed the entire debacle of her getting back in; his eyes were so focused on the wreck that used to be her apartment. His face was stoic and intense as he calmly and quickly spoke into the earpiece. He was trained for this. Trained to handle extraterrestrial break-ins and attempted kidnappings. She on the other hand was not. As if it hadn't already been made abundantly clear to her in the past hour, the comparison of his current state to hers made Molly all too aware that she was in WAY over her head. Clint's eyes landed on her, and he stopped talking, instead carefully moving his way through the minefield to reach her. She wanted him to reach out and hug her or take her hand or any sort of normal gesture of comfort. Normalcy and comfort. That was what she craved more than anything right now.

"You need to pack a bag. Enough for a week." He instructed. She could have guessed that he would provide neither of those two things.

"A week?" she asked, clearing her throat.

"This will be the first place they look for you." He looked around them. "They think they know us better than they do." His eyes met hers again, and Molly searched them for any hint that would help her follow his logic. Again, nothing. "We'll get men here to clean the place up and say that you sublet it because your family member relapsed. You can tell work the same story. I'll make sure that your work knows too. You can tell work the same story." He turned to return to the center of the room before being stopped by Molly.

"But, what about my mom?"

He turned back around and stared at her for a second. "We can have her put under surveillance." He kept staring at her, as if he had been guessing what she meant and wanted to make sure he was right. He wasn't. Funny how neither of them could really understand each other.

"That's not what I meant." Molly shook her head. " I mean, that's good too. I want to make sure that she's safe too, but what if she comes to visit? The family emergency story isn't going to work for her too."

"We'll tell her that it's your own health, but you don't want people to worry." He gave his answer so quickly it had to have been his backup answer to her initial question.

"I can't put her through that." Molly argued, a mixture of panic and frustration rising in her. "She already has enough stress in her life. I can't add a fake illness to it all."

"You don't have a choice." He snapped. Molly opened and shut her mouth, swallowing hard (and hurting her now burning throat), so she wouldn't start crying. Was now really the time to be snapping at her about what choices she did and did not have? Her nostrils flared, a signal that tears were close. She stared at him for a few more seconds as Molly fought back the urge to cry. Tears wouldn't make the situation any better. Finally, she turned around, moving to get a duffle bag out of her closet. She could hear Clint's footsteps walking in the opposite direction. Molly opened the duffle bag and placed it on the floor in front of her dresser, beginning to pack in as many outfits as she could fit inside of it. She wasn't about to count out exactly a week's worth, so instead she kept going until it was so full that she was only able to stuff in a bunch of wadded up scarves and a single pair of flip flops.

"Done?" Molly jumped a little at Clint's voice. She hadn't known that he was so close behind her. She nodded, and he reached down to pick up her bag, heading towards the door. She followed obediently, before stopping suddenly. Clint looked over at her questioningly.

"Purse." She explained, and he nodded as she hurried back into the room, searching the floor for her brown bag. Locating it, she picked it up and dusted it off. On her way out the door she noticed a small little notebook on the floor. Molly reached down and grabbed it. It had been her baking ideas book. Somehow it had escaped Talbot's rampage with all of its pages in tact. On an urge, she dropped it into the bottom of her purse, before meeting Clint at her apartment door. He looked her over, and she stared right back, before turning around to close and lock her apartment door. At least she could have some semblance of normalcy.

The two took off at a brisk pace. Silence remained between the two of them. Molly neither knew what to say nor particularly wanted to talk to him. As she pushed out the door to the apartment, she followed because she was grateful that he saved her life and knew that if she wanted to keep living, she had better do as he told her. It didn't mean that she had to like all of the implications of the thought, though. Clint suddenly turned down a street and into a parking garage that she recognized was about midway between her house and Monarch Bakery. The pair walked up the winding rows of cars, both on high alert. Molly was tense, waiting for someone to grab her at any second and Clint appeared to feel the same way. He had moved closer to her, and he glanced over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure she was behind her. His jaw was set, and his eyes had the same focused look as they had when they been looking over her apartment. They moved up each level like this, before finally stopping at a car. She recognized it from the night of the party when he had driven her to the hospital. He moved around to get into the driver's side, and Molly slid into the passenger's seat. Barton didn't waste any time sitting in the car, and as soon as his seatbelt was secured, he pulled out, driving quickly down the winding levels of the garage. He paid the man at the booth and pulled onto the street, slowing down a little bit to follow the flow of traffic.

Molly looked out the windshield, watching the people on the sidewalk go by as they slowly made their way through town and to wherever their destination was. Clint slowed to a stop at a yellow light as it turned a bright red. Silence remained between the two of them, becoming increasingly tense as they were stuck there. Clint looked over at her, taking his eyes away from the light. Molly kept her eyes fixed ahead, watching the light.

"I'm sorry." He finally offered, gently. "For…." He trailed off trying to find the right words.

"It's ok." Molly looked back at him. There was an understanding. A car behind them laid on the horn, as Clint looked back to the now-green light and began to drive.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. will figure out something to tell your mom."

"I have to tell her." Molly asserted. "If I'm not the one telling her, she'll know something's wrong." She turned to look at him as he continued driving.

"I can't allow you to call her. We don't know if they did anything to your phone." Clint shook his head.

"Then give me yours. I know what to tell her." Molly didn't have any choice about lying, so he had to give in to her on this point. The least she could do was win the little battles. She continued looking for a couple more seconds before turning back to the road. Or maybe she could just lose everything she fought. Something clattered beside her, and as Molly quickly turned to look for the source of the noise, she saw Clint's hand return to the steering wheel. His cellphone sat in a cup holder.

"Thank you." Molly said quietly, reaching forward to pick up the cell phone. She dialed her mother's landline, and held it up to her ear. The phone rang for an uncomfortably long time. Molly was about to tell Clint to turn the car around before her mother finally picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom?"

"Molly, how are you?"

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"Doing okay. I just got in from lunch. I went over to Skylark and got a nice lunch. But what about you? I was just thinking about you earlier and was actually going to call. I know you said that you were fine, but I just wanted to make sure that you doing ok. The attack on Stark Tower must have really shaken you up."

"I'm fine, Mom. Really." Molly swallowed hard. "I just…wanted to let you know that I'm going to be out of town for a little bit."

"Oh?" her mother asked. Molly could hear her mother pull out a chair to sit down in .

Molly paused, "Desi is really sick."

"Was that your friend from University of Chicago?" her mother asked.

"Yeah." Molly nodded

"I'm so sorry to hear that. I know you were good friends while you were there."

"I'm going to visit her to help take care of the kids, or whatever I can do. I told Monarch that I went away because a family member was sick, but…"

"Well, don't worry. Your secret's safe with me. I appreciate you letting me know." Molly felt horrible about lying to her mom. Her heart hurt. "Do you need me to house sit while you're gone?"

"No, no. I actually have someone who'll be there."

"Ok. Is there anything I can do? Anything you want me to send her?"

"No. It's alright." Molly paused for a second as the car pulled up to Stark Tower. She guessed that this was their final destination "Sorry Mom, I have to go."

"Ok. I love you. Have safe a trip."

"Love you too." Her mother hung up and Molly followed suit. Clint parked the car in the garage of Stark Tower. Molly got out of the car and shut the door, meeting him by the trunk of the car. "Here's your phone." She held it out to him, and he took it. "Thank you." She said the last words in a sort of horse whisper as her throat was killing her. She had talked more than she had since the incident, what with a full day of work, and then the encounter with Talbot, and then her disagreement with Clint, and finally the phone call with her mother. She had really been pushing it.

Clint nodded, taking the phone back and replacing it before he opened the trunk and took her bag out of it. Molly followed him into the elevator, a hand over her throbbing neck.

"What are you doing?" Clint asked, concerned. Molly hadn't noticed that he'd been watching her.

"My neck hurts when I talk too much." She responded offhandedly.

"Still?" His eyebrows furrowed a little bit.

"Well, it's only been a couple of days…" Molly trailed off.

"It shouldn't be hurting anymore though." He turned so that his whole body was facing her, as he looked at he gently moved her hand away so that he could look at the wound. "Is it always this red?" he looked up, seemingly worried.

"Well I can't really see it right now, but it changes along with how much I've been talking." Molly was surprisingly lighthearted about it.

"We've got to get you to S.H.I.E.L.D." The elevator doors opened, and Clint spun around quickly, moving off of the elevator. Slightly confused, Molly followed him. Tony Stark and Pepper appeared to have been waiting for the pair, as both were standing by the elevator, looking at them.

"Molly! Thank goodness you're okay." Pepper had crossed the room and was hugging her. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better." Molly was still surprised by Pepper's friendliness. Pepper let go and gave a sympathetic smile.

"I'm so sorry."

"The Quinjet should be landing any second." Tony Stark informed Clint.

"Good. We need to get her to headquarters as soon as possible. We need a place where no one can teleport to and where people can look at her throat."

"Teleport…throat?"

"The doctor said the cut wasn't that bad, but apparently it still hurts. Look at it. The color's wrong." Tony stepped forward as outside there was a muffled sound of engines signaling the arrival of the jet. "That's our ride." Clint said solemnly. Nobody moved, as Tony Stark observed Molly's throat. Suddenly he straightened up. "Well, we should probably get on that jet before something out of _Alien _jumps out of Molly's throat." Molly's eyes widened.

"He's joking." Pepper soothed before Molly could get any words out. Molly was slightly embarrassed that she thought he was being serious. Not that it would surprise her if chestbursters were real, and he wasn't completely joking. The group moved outside, hurrying to the jet. Agents were climbing out and hopping down. Barton paused to talk to a tall man in a suit, pointing at various groups of men. Molly looked around her, again overwhelmed, as she attempted to keep the pace and follow Tony Stark and Pepper. Stark climbed into the back of the jet, and found herself in what she could only describe as the coolest plane she'd ever been in. It was pretty spacious for its size, and held two rows of seats facing each other, one row on each wall. There was a large aisle which led up to what she guessed was the cockpit area. A pilot sat in one seat, as Clint climbed in the other side pulling on a headset. Everything was a dark bluish grey and metallic, and almost futuristic looking. Two strips of lights lit up the jet so that, while it was still fairly dark, she could clearly see the face of Tony Stark who stood watching her stand there like an idiot, taking in the sight of the high tech jet that was to usher her to safety.

"Have a safe flight." Pepper smiled waving in to them. Tony made a snarky comment, as Molly tried to pull her head out of the surroundings and focus on what Pepper just said.

"You're not coming?" Molly asked, her brow creased with worry and confusion at being left completely with the otherworldly super heroes.

"Someone has to run Stark Industries." Pepper half-smiled. Molly must have looked as panicked as she was beginning to feel. She didn't know Pepper, but the woman's presence seemed to be grounding. "Don't worry, S.H.I.E.L.D. has some good people there to take care of you. You'll be fine." Molly felt as if she was being sent off to the first day of school or something. Pepper stepped back as the hatch began to close.

"Buckle up." Clint called from the front seat, and Molly rushed to do as he said. Tony Stark was already lounging in a chair, and had his forearms on the two armrests next to him. Molly's belt clicked as the plane began to rumble and they took off.

"So, you're quite the alien magnet, huh?" Stark said lazily. "How does it feel to be so popular?" She couldn't tell if he was teasing her or trying to make light of the situation, so she chose to refrain from answering at all. "Oh, come on. You can't tell me that you don't think it's a little bit cool to be the center of attention. I mean the aliens want you, S.H.I.E.L.D. wants you—"

"Stark." Clint said in a warning voice from his position up at the front. Tony Stark lifted his hands up in a surrender position and leaned back in his chair. Molly wasn't sure if she could express how thankful she was to Clint. There was a small awkward silence.

"So, _where_ exactly are we going?" Molly asked quietly, instantly regretting her decision as it set Tony Stark off again.

"Headquarters. The big castle in the sky. The—"

"It's called a Helicarrier." Clint supplied, calling over his shoulder.

"So it's…" Molly's stomach flipped. A short plane ride was one thing. Consistently being miles above the ground was completely different.

"It's a flying aircraft carrier. Pretty awesome, right? Kind of one of my dad's better projects. I mean it could stand to be improved, like a lot of the old-timer things. Speaking of which," he suddenly shifted his attention to the front. "Where's the Captain?"

"He's meeting us there." Clint answered, keeping his eyes on the front. "Actually, here." The plane had been up in the air for no more than fifteen or twenty minutes, than it slowly began to land, the wheels touching down on what Molly would have assumed was solid ground had she not been told otherwise. The hatch opened and Molly undid her buckle as Tony Stark strolled out. Molly stood at the edge of the ramp, hesitating. She didn't have much choice other than go down, but she wasn't exactly thrilled with the prospects. Molly went down and was greeted by agents who started to whisk her away.

"Ms. McKay, on a scale of 1-10, how much does your throat hurt?" One fired a question at her, and Molly was startled as she began to move in.

"Um, now? Like a 4 or 5."

"At worst?" the agent probed.

"Probably about a 7." Molly was still confused and overwhelmed, as she found herself ushered indoors. The inside was gleaming with high tech specs, however, she wasn't given a chance to take in her scenery as the mob around her continued to move.

"And when's the last time it reached a 7?"

"Forty five minutes ago? An hour?" Where was Tony Stark? Or Clint? Pepper wouldn't have thrown her to the wolves.

"And how would you describe the pain? Dull? Achy? Stabbing? Stinging?"

"Do we really need all of these people here?" A woman, around the same height as Molly, dressed in a black jumpsuit walked up to the group. She had a presence about her that commanded the other agents' attentions, as a few began to walk away. One or two staying. She was thin, obviously muscular, with short red hair cut into a bob. Her eyes were gray blue, but they didn't have the same warmth as peppers, or sparkle like she liked to think hers did. There wasn't even a tinge of mischievousness or mysteriousness in them. They were just eyes. Focused and a little hard, like Clint's. She turned to face Molly with something between a smile and a smirk. "Natasha." She stuck out her hand.

"Molly McKay." Molly answered, shaking the hand. It hit her that she probably already knew that. She seemed important, so if the agents who had just been questioning her knew her name, Natasha had to too.

"I'm here to escort you to the Infirmary. Agent Ross, you can go on ahead, we'll finish those questions there." Natasha directed as the woman who had been questioning Molly hurried ahead of them. Molly now walked the halls of the Helicarrier at a slower pace next to Natasha.

"Sorry about that. Our med staff here can be a bit like sharks. They swarm when they smell blood." That was an interesting analogy. "I've heard that you've gone though a lot recently."

"Are people keeping that close tabs on me?" Molly asked worriedly.

"Well, after the alien, Talbot, grabbed you at Stark's party, S.H.I.E.L.D. took a bit of an interest in you. Mainly to keep you safe."

"I'm sorry. What is S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. We're basically a fancy intelligence agency."

"I've never heard of S.H.I.E.L.D." Molly shook her head, trying to remember something about them.

"Well, we wouldn't be doing our jobs if you had." Natasha actually smiled at this, as she turned the corner with Molly. "Our goal is to protect the American public, and keep tabs on everything out of the ordinary, so when Talbot grabbed you, we wanted to make sure that it was a random incident. We posted Agent Barton to watch you for a little bit, just to make sure that nothing happened."

"Well, you see how well that worked." Molly said quietly.

"You're here and alive." Natasha gently rebuked. "And S.H.I.E.L.D. is the safest place you could possibly be. Safer than at home behind a locked door. As it's the headquarters of an intelligence agency, we have protections against any types of extraterrestrial tech that's out there. Including transportation devices."

It made sense now. How Barton had magically heard her and come to her rescue. It had been his job to follow her and prevent her from being kidnapped or killed.

"We'll keep you here until your throat's healed, and we can quiet down the storm out there with Talbot and the rest of his men. Our theory is that he's mistaken you as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent since you were at the Meeting of Minds and Stark's party. As there's no way we can inform him that you're not and get him to believe us, we'll just have to keep you away for a little."

"Ok." Molly nodded.

"I have to ask. Do you have any reason why he might have targeted you?"

"I have no idea." Molly shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't know. He said something about a key and that I held some knowledge, and about how he knew who I was. But if he just thought I was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent that makes more sense."

"So you don't have any idea what he was talking about?" Natasha asked gently, sympathetically.

"No. I mean, if he was looking for a good recipe for angel food cake, I could help him out, but otherwise he's out of luck." Molly joked. She felt comfortable around Natasha. The agent's presence of authority seemed only to stick when she needed it to. It melted away to reveal a much nicer, more open, and warmer person than Molly had expected.

"That's right, you're a baker. Did you ever do any work outside of that field?"

"Well, I studied Art History for two years, but that's about it."

"No science, no engineering?"

"My dad was a high school science teacher, but that's all of the interactions I've really had with the science field. Besides my own high school science. "

"And what does your mother do?"

"She's a sociologist."

"You certainly are an odd choice for a target." Natasha sounded both puzzled and concerned for Molly. Maybe Pepper was right. There really was some good people here. The two stopped in front of a door. Inside a man dressed in a white coat waited for Molly.

"This is as far as I've been told to go. I was only here to ward off the sharks." Natasha smiled at Molly.

"Thanks." Molly smiled back. She had really made Molly feel better. Molly entered the room and was directed to sit on the examination table as the doctor proceeded to run tests on her throat and grill her about the pain she was feeling.

* * *

_Now I'm asking a witch doctor, but the witch doctor won't tell._

_Hear the Bells._

She sat there for a couple of hours being the lab guinea pig until finally a group walked into the Infirmary. "Tell me what you know, doctor." A tall, imposing, black man entered first issuing the order as he entered the room. He was dressed completely in black, the most noticeable article of clothing being his black trench coat. That was a lie. The thing that drew the most attention was his black eye patch. His tone, was strictly no nonsense. Already a little jittery from all of the testing, Molly wanted to fall away from herself to avoid being noticed by this man. It was unfortunate that he was probably here solely because of her. Behind him, a tall pale woman with brown hair pulled up into sleek bun, Clint, Tony Stark, and Natasha entered the room. The Infirmary was becoming a little crowded.

"I've never seen anything quite like it. I had to send some samples over for the scientists to look at." The doctor responded, calling the group over to look at a couple of charts on his computer.

"And why's that?" the man in black asked, rather harshly.

"Well, there's something odd about the blood work that we took from her." The doctor explained.

"What do you mean, odd?" His patience seemed to be wearing thin.

"Her blood has some sort of foreign chemical or radiation. According to the scientists, it has the same basic makeup as that of a tracking chip. In short, her blood is emitting a tracking signal. My guess is that the blade she was cut with was laced with a sort of serum." And that was why it wasn't healing the way it should. The reason it hurt when she talked. It probably activated the serum that was in her or something like that. This was how Talbot had found her at her apartment.

"Can you get rid of it?" the intimidating man asked.

"Unfortunately, it's too infused with the blood. The only solution I came up with would be to make her wear a tinfoil neck brace." The joke fell flat as six blank faces stared back at the man who was quietly chuckling to himself. Seeing it's unpopularity, he regained his composure. "It shouldn't be permanent. The signal should get weaker as the body changes itself to heal the wound."

"How long will that take?"

"Two weeks. Maybe three. The cut's not too deep, but it's long. Have you been cleaning it regularly?" Suddenly the attention was redirected to Molly. She froze a little bit, feeling nervous and extremely uncomfortable.

"Yes." It depended on their definition of regularly, but she had checked on her throat three times a day. The black man nodded as silence overtook the room.

"Agent Hill?" He finally spoke.

"Yes, Sir?" The tall brunette stepped to his side.

"Please escort Ms. McKay to an empty room where she will be staying. Ms. McKay you are to stay in there unless retrieved by a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

Confused, Molly followed Agent Hill through the hallways. She couldn't help but feel like a prisoner.

* * *

**Ending Thoughts:: **_Gahh! I had to cut this chapter short because I made a promise to get it up by today and my clock's slowly ticking down. Hopefully you enjoyed it, and if you're worried that Natasha seems out of character…well, you'll see in Part II. I love reading what you think. It makes me write faster (believe it or not.) Hopefully the second part of this chapter will be out by the end of the week._


	9. Chapter Eight

**(Chapter 8) Protective Custody**

**Author's Note:: **_I woke up the morning after I published Chapter 7 and my e-mail inbox was FULL of "New Story Favorite" and "New Story Follower" and even a couple of reviews. Repeat performance? Also I realized that I messed up and called Molly the "key" in her conversation with Natasha when I meant to say "game piece." Oh, and since I forgot to tell mention it last time. The song I use for the breaks, which is the same in this chapter as it was in the last, is Vanessa Carlton's "Hear the Bells." Enjoy!_

* * *

_Floating on the sea stars are watching me  
Current takes me out what will be will be_

The group moved from the Infirmary to the bridge, and by the time Captain America and Bruce Banner joined them, Agent Hill had come back from showing Molly to her room and was heatedly discussing an issue with the rest of the group.

"Sir, they are using her. They injected her because they knew that we would have to take her here to get her checked out. They didn't want _her_; they wanted her to lead them to _us._ They're tracking us like we're tracking them." Agent Hill said sharply. She stood by the head of the table, close to Director Fury, with arms crossed.

"Well, the joke's on them because you can't teleport onto the Helicarrier." Tony Stark commented from his seat at the opposite end of the table. He sat leaning back in his chair with outstretched leg. One elbow was propped up on the arm of the chair for his head to lean on, just in case it got too big for him to hold up. His other hand remained free for him to use as he talked.

"They don't know that." Agent Hill returned, as if challenging Stark to argue back.

"They weren't tracking her to get to us. They didn't really cut her throat until they heard her name at the party." Barton said in a tight voice, as if he was restraining himself from doing something that he'd regret. "They want her." He sat next to Stark towards the back of the table, on the same side as Agent Hill. Bruce sat in the seat across from him as Captain America took the empty chair between Dr. Banner and Natasha.

"Why would they want a civilian?" Hill questioned.

"They think she's a game piece, that she knows more than she actually does." Natasha said calmly. "That's what they told her when they came after her."

"Did she reveal anything in your interrogation?" Director Fury spoke for the first time. He turned to face Natasha from where he stood.

"She has no information, and she's not trying to hide anything from us. She's just a baker who went to school for art history, no real background in physics or any other science. She was genuinely confused as to why they would choose to target and attack her. I think that we've accidentally entangled ourselves with an innocent so much that they assume she's part of S.H.I.E.L.D. or at least part of our plan." Natasha stated coolly, a much different version of herself than the person who drew the facts out of Molly.

"Part of our plan." Stark repeated. "You know, I have a theory about all of this too, but I'm going to elect to skip my turn at guessing and pass the opportunity along to Fury. Just, why is S.H.I.E.L.D. so entangled in Molly's life?" He turned to Director Fury as if expecting him to come out and confess an ulterior motive.

"The real question is what do we do with her now that she is." Captain America said solemnly.

"We have to protect her." Barton was quiet, yet firm.

"Are you saying that we should keep her here while they're tracking her?" Hill asked.

"What would you have us do? Drop her off and hope for the best?" Barton growled.

"Sir, the aliens may have a space craft as well. They could be following us right now. If this ship goes down, all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s operations are gone, not to mention all of the agents that will be lost. Is this one girl really worth it?" Agent Hill appealed to Director Fury, ignoring Barton glares.

"Agent Hill, I would remind you that it is our duty to protect all of the citizens that we can within our power. If the Evorsors were tracking us, we would have heard about it by now." Director Fury responded unaffectedly, putting Agent Hill in her place. "We'll keep her here in protective custody until we can find Talbot and deal with him."

"So, she's just going to be locked up in her room all the time?" Barton asked.

"I've been in a cage. You can't do that to an innocent girl." Banner shook his head.

"She should know what's going on. Like it or not, she's in this." Barton pushed.

"You act as if she was one of us. She's a civilian. This is a Level Seven priority. There are some agents here who don't know anything about this." Hill contested.

"I'm sure that Pepper Potts is already quite aware of what's happening in this investigation." Natasha leveled a glance at Tony.

"In my defense, Pepper is quite literally my better half. People like dealing with her far more than they like dealing with me, which I for one don't get. I'm the fun one." Stark responded. No one offered any comments. Not even on his incorrect use of the word literally.

"Molly's directly involved. She already knows almost as much as we do. She was there at the gala and Stark's party." Barton argued. "Talbot even directly spoke directly to her about the Perditrix."

"These Evorsors are just going to keep looking for her until this Talbot is taken care of." Captain America supported.

"Whether or not she was one before, they've turned her into a game piece." Natasha stated grimly. The chilling fact washed over them, creating a moment of tense silence, broken by Stark putting in his two cents.

"What can it hurt? So Strawberry Shortcake knows a little more about why people are trying to kill her, what is she going to do? People are already aware that there are aliens are the loose." Tony leaned back in his chair, placing his feet on the table and his hands behind his head. "She could even be useful. She may not have a background in science, but she has a working understanding of iridium and its uses."

"What?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Her father taught her about it apparently. I don't know what kind of high school science he was teaching, but I would have—" he was silenced by the looks of the people around the table. The director had turned his back to the group in the middle of Stark's comment and the silence had once again settled over them as they all watched Director Fury's back, trying to read his thoughts. A minute passed like this before finally, he slowly turned around.

"I suppose," he started, pausing. "It may be for the best to bring her up to speed."

Maria Hill looked less than pleased with this decision, but she set her jaw and kept her mouth shut.

"Excellent." Tony said taking his feet off the table, and letting them land hard on the floor as he leaned forward, resting his arms where his feet had just been. "Now who's going to tell her?"

_Stealing glances through the keyhole_

_In a brick wall's wooden door_

_Change are keeping quite the secrets_

_200 Year Old Folklore._

* * *

Molly sat in her small room staring at the door. Now, this was hardly fair. First she's hired to work at a party where an alien comes and attacks and ruins her otherwise nice night, then she has to work at another party where the alien attacks her personally, sending her to the hospital, and then the same alien breaks into her apartment, messes up all of her stuff, attacks her for a second time, forcing her to leave her home and job and lie to her mom and friends about where she is and what's happening for her own safety, with safety apparently meaning being locked in a glorified closet and treated like a prisoner of war. All of the while, with no idea of what the hell is going on. If this was the excitement and adventure that most people dreamed about, she didn't want it. And she would gladly give to them. She wanted to be back at home, in her apartment, going through Pintrest and finding cool new outfits and sweet cupcake designs. If she couldn't have that, she wanted Pepper to be here. She wouldn't have locked Molly away. And if she had been forced to, Pepper would have at least been kind enough to make sure that someone was here to keep Molly company. As it was, Molly sat, kept in what was probably one of the nicer rooms in the Helicarrier despite her objections to its relatively small size. (She was one of the few people lucky enough to never have lived in a stereotypical New York City shoebox apartment. If she had, the room would have appeared rather nice.) There was a good twin-sized bed, pushed up against the back wall in the left-most corner. About three or four feet away was the door to the full-sized bathroom. Across from the foot of her bed, and actually a little bit to the right, was a desk and a matching chair. As Molly sat on the bed, she faced the wardrobe and the door. She was lucky enough to have a solid metal door, unlike some of the glass ones that she had seen on her walk to this room. It opened with the push of a small switch that was slightly to the left of the door, next to the light switch. The two panels were pretty much identical, both had the switch that would either turn the lights on or open the door and a slider that would adjust the brightness of lights or, well, she wasn't quite sure what it would do to the door. Molly had only seen Agent Hill flip on the lights, which was how she had known which controls managed which aspect of the room.

It would be so easy to escape her confinement and run around the Helicarrier, but what would she do? Constantly be on the run, hiding from top-level agents? Yeah, right. The thought made her snort to herself. She was just a baker from Manhattan; she didn't have that skillset.

There was a knock at the door. Molly stood up quickly from the bed, and stared at the door a little bit longer. Sure she felt like she had been here long enough, probably close to forty-five minutes, but she hadn't actually expected anyone to get her until it was time to eat. She glanced at her cell phone. It _was_ close to dinnertime. Past time actually. A second knock reminded her why she had gotten up in the first place. Molly crossed to the button and rather than taking the opportunity to figure out what the slider did, she hit the switch, causing the door to slide away.

Clint stood in front of her.

It was the best surprise she'd gotten all day.

"Hi." She breathed. He nodded back at her. "Are you my armed guard?" She had meant it to be a joke to lighten the mood, and only realized after she said it that the comment came out rather sassily. "I'm sorry." She apologized quickly, pushing hair behind her ear. He shook his head.

"No." He paused. "I'm sorry." She was surprised at his sympathetic response. He had been so stern in her apartment and in the car. This new side sent her fumbling for words trying to come up with some response to say. He was still standing in her doorframe, staring at her. He still had a sort of intense air about him, but the words added softness. His voice hadn't been as rough as it normally was. She was really caught off guard.

"You were just doing your job." Molly responded softly. "I'm just…not having the best day." The last part came out in a sort of sad laugh. That sentence was an understatement if she'd ever heard one. A wry smile crossed his face as he looked down at the floor, and then back up at her.

"We forget," he started, paused, and then collected himself as if trying to think through the statement as he said it. "We forget that we were all in your shoes. Overwhelmed and unsure of what's going on or why it's happening to you. And we all came out of it." If this was supposed to be some motivational pep talk, it wasn't really working. Molly was unsure of what to do with the unasked for intimacy. On the one hand she really, truly, appreciated it. On the other, it seemed unlike him. He was supposed to have it all together and be strong and forceful and firm. He could be cookie cutter sympathetic, but this was a bit too real. Pepper was allowed to make the emotional connections. Even Natasha seemed like she had the sort of character who could share this sentiment with Molly, but Clint…it was different from Pepper or Natasha being sent over to play diplomat and damage control. Hearing the reassurances come from his lips made it seem as if there was a significant possibility that this situation was worse than she had expected. That everything may_ not_ be alright. The agents didn't have things under control, otherwise they would continue to keep her in the dark and separated until their plan was enacted and she could be safely deposited at home. It had all seemed sort of like a bad movie or some sort of weird dream up until now. That was why she felt so uncomfortable. It wasn't him. It was what he stood for. She was screwed.

Molly looked back to him, and found herself captivated by his eyes. They affirmed her fears. She could have cried. Instead she remained frozen, staring at him, a mixture of feelings welling up in her. There was a form of grief and some sort of terror and this tension that she didn't want to think about any more than the fact that it was there. "Thank you." She whispered at last, and they stared at each other for a few moments longer. If this had been the bad movie that Molly thought she was in, something would have happened in those moments. As it was, both remained rooted firmly in their place, just staring. Having three different conversations at once. She couldn't take the silence or the staring any longer. She quickly turned her head to the side, looking over his shoulder into the hall. "Thank you for everything. For saving my life…twice. For letting me call my mom…" she trailed off, and looked back at him. Silent and unmovable. "For being honest about my situation."

He nodded and then let out a small sigh.

"Are you here to take me to dinner?" Molly changed the subject, hoping it would make them both feel better. He cleared his throat, seeming to come out of whatever state he'd been in.

"No. I came to tell you that Director Fury has changed his mind. You're free to leave your room as you please. There are certain parts of the ship that are off limits, but they're clearly marked and you couldn't even get in if you tried." If Molly had been the adventurous type she would have taken that as a challenge. As it was she was just thankful that she wouldn't end up in the wrong place at the wrong time again. "I also came because the Director wants you at the debriefing."

"You mean—"

He nodded.

So, Molly McKay was now officially involved with whatever was happening to her. And she was about to hang out with the Avengers team. Well. That'd show Janet.

* * *

**Ending Thoughts:** _This chapter came out much different than I thought it would when I started writing it. I'd like to hear your thoughts. Also, if you want to comment on your favorite scenes or lines in the story so far that would be awesome. So, feel free to review or message me. I'm pretty friendly. The next chapter should be up shortly after Thanksgiving_.


	10. Chapter Nine

**(Chapter 9) Meet and Greet**

**Author's Note:: **_I felt so bad for making you guys wait __**so long**__, that I decided to sit down and write a REALLY LONG chapter and NOT break it up. (Yay?) I've got a lot of explaining to do, a lot of relationship building, and a lot of set up. Credit to Switchfoot for the amazing song "Where I Belong" which I used for this chapter. Speaking of which, I used the song to break it up a little differently. Each time the lyrics are used as a page break, it signals a new day. The different scenes throughout the days are broken up differently._

* * *

_The air feels strange to me_

_Feeling like a tragedy_

_I take a deep breath and close my eyes_

Molly entered the bridge behind Clint. At the sound of their footsteps, the whole table turned to look at the pair. More than anything, she wanted to shrink away and go back to the safety of her room/cell. These people were intimidating. Captain America was literally a walking legend and a symbol for basically everything the United States stood for. Tony Stark was a billionaire genius running a hugely successful corporation by day, and equally successful superhero by night. Director Fury (or at least, she assumed that the large man dressed in black was Director Fury) was the superior in charge of a powerful intelligence agency, and this team of superheroes. Agent Hill wasn't as intimidating as much as she was cold and unpleasant to be around. On their way to Molly's room, Agent Hill hadn't said one word to Molly. Natasha was… an Avenger? Seeing her sit there with the rest of the group, it finally hit Molly as to why the woman had seemed vaguely familiar. Molly felt dumb for having not realized it sooner, but she had to guess that S.H.I.E.L.D. tried their best to keep the identities of the "normal heroes" secret. After all, she hadn't recognized Clint until he had suited up. It then struck Molly that Natasha was the only woman of the group, which led her to the conclusion (whether realistic or not) that she had to be at least twice as, for lack of a better word, hardcore, as the men at the table if she had made it this high up in the chain. Molly looked at the last person who sat turned to her and could not name him. He looked small and a little nervous and just as out of place as Molly felt. Her heart warmed towards him, but she couldn't find it in her to smile at him.

"Geez Barton. Did you tell her that her dog died?" Tony Stark quipped as Clint passed in front of the table on his way to take a seat. "You'd think she'd look happier, being off house arrest and all."

"Shut up." Someone hissed. Molly couldn't catch who said it, which led her to believe that it was either Captain America or Natasha, as they had their backs towards her now and the small guy didn't strike her as the type to chide someone so harshly.

"Ms. McKay, please have a seat." Director Fury instructed. Molly walked around in front of the table, and moved to take the only seat available, in between Agent Hill and Clint. Before she could fully sit down, Agent Hill rose and moved to speak a few words to Director Fury and then left, leaving Molly feeling even more uncomfortable than she had a few seconds earlier.

For the first part, she had a strong suspicion that Agent Hill was angry with her for some reason and just generally didn't like her. Secondly, Molly would have preferred to sit in Agent Hill's old seat, separate from the heroes at the table. It felt wrong for her to be so close to the people who had saved her life and the lives of everyone else on the planet on what was probably a daily basis. It was one thing to meet them at a party or something. Plenty of fans had fleeting moments in which they shook the hand of their favorite hero, spoke a few sentences of polite chit chat, took a picture, and then lived the rest of their lives embellishing the moment in their memory and in their recitations of the story. To be in a meeting, as a sort of cohort with these people was too much. Sure, it came at an absolutely terrible price and this experience cold also ending up being fleeting if Talbot ever found her, and they sort of scared the crap out of her, but she felt lucky in a way.

Molly was having a hard time wrapping her head around the double-edged sword that was now her life. On the one hand, she was sitting at a table with living legends, and on the other hand, her life was in constant danger. She had really been strapped onto an emotional rollercoaster by recent events, none of it made any easier by the mutual tension between her and her perpetual savior, Clint. She could only assume that most girls would find themselves a little emotionally unstable when drawn into this crazy world.

"I suppose you have questions about what exactly is going on, Ms. McKay." Director Fury pulled her from her thoughts. "And perhaps it's time that I tell you all just what the situation looks like." He addressed the table. Molly hadn't considered the possibility that maybe she wasn't the only one who was a little lost.

"After the attack from Loki and the Chitauri, the Council decided that we need a new plan to defend the earth. Thor had left with the Tesseract, taking Phase 2 out of the picture, and they weren't exactly thrilled with the idea of depending on six heroes who worked outside of their control. So, they started a new effort, looking into past projects and working to develop them further. We placed most of our hope and resources into a project that had been shut down nineteen years ago, Project PIECES."

"Why exactly did they shut it down, back then?" Tony Stark asked from his position, tilting backwards and rocking in his chair.

"Let's just say that the Council hasn't always seen the value of precautionary measures. It was a project ahead of its time, both in its purpose and in the science and technology behind it. One of our best and brightest men, Dr. Kendrick had spearheaded the project. His plan was to build something called a Perditrix, a device that in essence created black holes. The size and strength was adjustable to the situation, however before he could work out the kinks of the project, the whole effort was shut down."

"What were the kinks exactly?" Captain America asked, from where he sat leaning on the table.

"There was always the issue of controlling the black hole so that it didn't accidentally suck in anything it wasn't supposed to, for instance, the Earth. Kendrick had some theories as to the solutions, and he continued to work on them in his own time even after the project was shut down, but he died before he could come up with any real solutions."

"How did he die?" Molly asked, quietly. Everyone's attention was again shifted towards her, but the answer was more important than her discomfort. She was terrified of finding out the truth, of seeing just how dangerous it was to be in league with these people, but it was important to her. She had to be prepared.

"Cancer." Director Fury responded shortly.

"Oh." Molly had been unprepared for that answer and was hit hard. She had been expecting a horrible lab accident, or that he had been killed by some extraterrestrial danger or some other surreal cause. Instead it was cancer. She sat there trying to put herself back in the right mindset to listen to the rest of what he had to say, but in the silence that followed this response, she was left to struggle with her thoughts. She knew how terrible the disease could be. It turned people into shades of what they had been before taking them away for good. It devastated families in its wake. It was a horrific normalizer, attacking secret agents and science teachers with the same lethal force. "I'm sorry." She said quietly. Across the table, Natasha raised an eyebrow. Captain America looked sympathetic, but uncomfortable. Someone cleared his or her throat.

"What about the people working on the project with him?" Stark asked.

"The only other person working on the project with Dr. Kendrick was your father. Stark helped Kendrick with the more technical aspects of the project. Kendrick was too paranoid to let others work on the project with him. He didn't want someone to take his work and deliver it to the wrong people. He did, however keep a journal."

"I _knew_ I recognized the name from somewhere." Tony Stark said.

"So you've been working off of his old notes?" Captain America asked.

"We had Dr. Selvig working on it along with a few of our best. The problem was, that Kendrick's notes were coded so that nobody could steal his work and recreate it. Most of the information in the journal is incomplete with random formulas throughout. Except, half of the formulas aren't actually formulas but words. Most of them were names, but they could be first names, last names, theories, scientists, we have no idea. We had been in the process of decoding the formulas and matching them up to different people when our work was stolen. In the process of the theft, most of our copies and our computers were destroyed, and a good bit of the journal was ripped out, sending us back to square one."

"That's Talbot, right?" Molly asked. The table seemed to be shocked that she was following along and able to make such logical deductions. She was a little impressed herself.

Director Fury gave a nod. "We had gotten word from a small town about a strange man causing havoc. Within the hour, we picked him up and took him for holding at our closest facility, which happened to be where the majority of our work was being conducted. We interrogated him asking for the basic information, but never got a sound out of him. Then, one day, he broke out and caused the mess."

"Initially we believed that he had help from an inside man." Natasha put in, all business. Molly was shocked at the change of tone in her voice in this setting as opposed to when she had been talking with Molly earlier. As Molly observed her more closely, she noticed that her overall demeanor had changed. She was a lot harder, more focused and edgier…if that made any sense. Molly began to question her earlier comparisons of Natasha to Pepper. "However, that's no longer the case."

"You've made progress, Agent Romanoff?" Director Fury asked.

"Yes, sir." She nodded, and then turned to the table. "We thought that he had to have help to know where the work was being done in the facility and to get out of his cell. It required a code in order to get in and out that only a handful of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents knew. But, when I was investigating, I found this."

She placed a small metal device on the table, which looked a bit like an earpiece.

"He was tapped into our system. This is an audiovisual device. You put it in your ear and it enhances the audio and it must send some sort of brainwave so that you're able to se a sort of computer screen in front of you, probably similar to the inside of your helmet Stark. He used it hack into our system and was able to see through all of our cameras, read through all of our databases. He was the inside man."

"That's ingenious." Tony Stark said reaching for it. Natasha grabbed it off the table, offering it to Director Fury, who took it, inspecting it.

"I'll get some people looking into this." He said.

"So he let himself be captured." Clint put in, speaking up for the first time.

"It's funny how aliens like to do that nowadays. First Loki, now Talbot. You'd think that you guys would find a new method of detainment or something." Stark commented.

"He took everything just to leave us scrambling." Nick Fury said solemnly. "They dragged us into some messed up scavenger hunt, a race to make sense of Kendrick's notes and build the Perditrix first. If we could only find the key to all of this." Molly thought back to Tony Stark's party and when Talbot had crashed in. He had said that…and then he repeated…Molly shook her head. It was too ridiculous to even consider. "Both of us are just trying to get some sort of leverage ourselves over the others."

"Is that where I come in?" Molly asked. This time the heroes did not meet her eye.

"We never intended to use you as leverage." Fury responded.

"No, but they thought you did. Why else would I have been at all of those parties with the Avengers, right?" Molly asked letting out a small breathy laugh. "And now I have to stay here."

"Only until the tracking serum wears off and we have Talbot back in custody. He appears to be the leader and the one doing much of the work." Director Fury assured. "Which leads me to our new plan. If we keep attempting to play 'keeping up with the Jones'' with these aliens, we're not going to get anywhere. We need to focus more effort returning to PIECES to pick up where we left off, otherwise we'll be too far behind to even hope to win the race. Stark and Banner, I want you on that. There's not much to go on, but you'll have to make the best of what we have."

Banner? Molly thought, racking her brain, before it finally clicked. That small, quiet, nerdy looking man was _the Hulk_?

"As for ARROW, I believe that we should redirect it into finding capturing Talbot. It's the only way we can assure that those names on the list are safe. I'm issuing this across SHIELD, but Barton, I still want you to be heading this initiative."

"Yes, sir." He nodded.

"Captain, I want you on this as well."

"Yes, sir."

"And Agent Romanoff, I have something else for you to do now, along the lines of your previous work."

"Yes, sir." She responded calmly.

"Stop him, and if you can find the journal, I want that back. And Ms. McKay?"

"Yes, sir?" Molly parroted the rest of the people at the table.

"Try to stay out of trouble." He commanded, before turning and walking off of the bridge.

She couldn't tell if he was joking or not. The rest of the table sat still in their seats as she did.

"Well he's as warm and fuzzy as ever." Stark said, the legs of his chair slamming down. "I'm sure you feel right at home now." He looked at Molly.

"Don't worry, we'll catch this guy." Captain America assured her.

"I know." Molly said, nodding. It probably would have been more accurate to say, 'I hope so.'

"Are you hungry?" Clint asked from beside her. Molly shook her head.

"Um, no. I'm actually pretty tired. I've had a long day." She said quietly.

"Do you want somebody to walk you there?" he asked. Molly was touched by his seemingly concern, but she tried not to think into it. He probably just didn't want her wandering into the restricted areas.

"No, I think I can find it." She said, standing up from her chair. She looked at the table of superheroes, unsure of what to do with herself. "Well, um, good night then."

"Sleep tight, and don't let the Evorsor's bite." Tony Stark chirped. Molly was able to catch the glare that Captain America shot at him. Molly walked off of the bridge, and heard soft murmur's behind her as the heroes resumed their work. They would catch Talbot. They had to.

_Feeling like a refugee_

_Like it don't belong to me_

_The colors flash across the sky_

Molly panicked for a brief second when she woke up. At first she was sure that she had overslept and was going to be late for work. After looking for her alarm clock and finding that she was in a completely different room that she didn't recognize, Molly had gone into a more frantic stage of panic. It wasn't until she saw her bag on the floor by the dresser a terrifying twenty seconds later that she realized where she was. Molly sat for a second, taking deep breaths to calm her heart down. She was glad no one had been there to witness her confusion, and shakily stood up from the bed, still attempting to recover from the shock. Molly crossed the room and then sank down her knees by her bag, taking out some of the clothes that she had thrown in there. She should probably unpack her stuff at some point. There was really no telling how long she would be here, and repacking it wouldn't be nearly as much of hassle of having to continually root around for clothes. She extracted a purple t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans, found some underwear, and moved into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

The shower was warm and soothing and helped her calm down a little bit. When Molly had finally reached her room last night, she had just climbed under the covers in all of her clothes (although she did have the good sense to take her scarf off to avoid strangulation) and passed out. She hadn't dreamed, and if she had she didn't remember it. She didn't engage her brain in the shower either, instead letting her mind rest for as long as possible, letting the warm water comfort her. She hummed a little to herself, but she wasn't really a shower singer, so after repeating the chorus of "Titanium" twice and not being able to come up with any of the other verses, she gave up and finished the rest of her shower in silence. Molly dressed and decided to take the opportunity to ditch the scarf, seeing how she was probably condemned to wear them for the rest of her life.

Molly's stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since somewhere around 1 PM yesterday. She slipped on her boots, and headed out the door, into an empty hallway. It hit her that she had absolutely no idea where the kitchen or food area was, and as there were no agents around to let her know, she decided to take the time to wander. Molly decided to turn left, away from the bridge and head further into the ship. The hallways all looked the same, but she kept wandering, figuring that there had to be some marker for food. Occasionally someone passed her, but they tended to pick up their pace and avoid eye contact so as not to talk to her. Molly didn't mind because she found herself doing the same thing. She wished that she could be at home, probably already having eaten, and working her way through her shift. She'd probably be watching the front by now, greeting customers, being as charming as possible. Essentially, she'd be a whole other person. Actually, she'd go back to being who she was. This frightened, quiet, Molly who just wanted to hide, it just wasn't her.

After about twenty minutes, Molly was able to locate a mini kitchen (which she had to assume was not the one they used to feed people their meals as it was only about the size of her kitchen at home), and she had two bowls of some cereal that she found in the cabinets. After washing her dishes, she left to begin the search back to her room.

Molly chose a direction, walking down the hallway, going for a good five minutes before she stopped. Her surroundings looked familiar, but everything in the ship looked a little familiar. Molly turned around to check to see if maybe she should have turned the other way, when the sound of footsteps drew her attention back to the direction that she had been heading and Clint appeared. He looked surprised to see her, but quickly recovered to look as stoic as ever. He closed the distance between them as she looked down at her feet and then back up at him.

"Are you looking for the kitchen?" he asked. At first, Molly was touched that he had remembered the fact that she hadn't eaten last night, but she then realized that he was probably just trying to rationalize why she was in this part of the Helicarrier.

"Actually, I just came from there. I'm trying to get back to my room." She admitted.

"Oh." There was a pause. "The easiest way is going back through the bridge. That's on my way; I can take you."

"Thanks." She said quietly, as they began to walk down the hall together. The only sound between them was that of their footsteps. Molly found it interesting how he was the one that she interacted with the most, and yet she was unable to hold a conversation with him for more than a few seconds. Maybe silence was just their way. She let her thoughts die down, embracing the quietness.

"How are you doing?" he asked after a few minutes of peace.

"Better. I'm doing a lot better." She noted, nodding her head. He nodded as well, and they continued the rest of the way without a word. They crossed over the bridge, and Molly was sure that she could feel the arms on them, but she kept focusing ahead of her. Eventually she would stop being a spectacle. She'd just fade away into another person. A few moments later and they were at her door. "Thanks." She looked at Clint quickly and then back at her door, opening it. She stepped through and was about to close it when he called her name.

"Molly." He stopped her. She looked at him, standing in her doorframe. "We're going to get this guy."

Molly smiled and nodded, before pressing the switch to shut the door. What a lovely sentiment.

[x.x.x.x.x. TIME LAPSE x.x.x.x.x.]

Molly had been in the middle of unpacking when there was a knock at her door. Intrigued, she rolled off of where she had been lying on the bed, crossing the room to open the door. Leaning against the door was Tony Stark. He held the phone out to her. "It's for you." She took his cell phone, and he turned away and left her

"Hello?" she spoke into the phone.

"Hi, Molly. It's Pepper. How are you doing? Tony told me about the tracking serum. I'm so sorry about all of this." Pepper sounded genuinely concerned and nervous.

"I'm ok. Holding up." Molly responded, reassuringly.

"I just feel so terrible. This is all my fault." Pepper said. Molly started to protest, but Pepper continued anyway. "I mean, I was the one who invited you to the party, and had introduced you to the Captain, which made you go to get your camera. And then we just left you alone in your apartment, after you'd been attacked. I should have sent someone to check up on you more regularly." All of the coulda-shoulda-woulda's seemed a bit excessive to Molly. Pepper was either pretty upset about her perceived facilitation of Molly getting hurt, or she wanted to make sure that Molly wasn't going to sue Stark Industries.

"If you want to blame anyone, blame whoever threw the Meeting of Minds gala and had me hired as the caterer. It's really just been a series of unfortunate events. Freak accidents." Molly consoled.

"Well, I'm making sure that your apartment is being watched over and taken care of. They just finished cleaning everything up. They should be starting on the repairs today. I'll be going over in an hour or so to check up on the progress. I'll make sure that Tony keeps you updated." Pepper seemed to pull herself together.

"Oh, you don't have to do that. Aren't you really busy?" Didn't Pepper have to oversee Stark Industries or something in Tony Stark's absence?

"It's no problem at all. And if you need anything in the future, please don't hesitate to let me know." Pepper dismissed. Molly was definitely leaning towards the lawsuit train of thought. "I also want you to know, that these people might seem like big heroes, and scary, and intimidating, but they're men. Even with all of their abilities and powers, they're still as human as the rest of us." Pepper's new advice, pushed Molly over to the side of 'Pepper's just a good person and really wants to help out' as opposed to 'Pepper wants to make sure that I don't take away millions of dollars from her.' "Get to know them. No matter their faults, they're good men." The last bit almost sounded a bit like love advice.

"Ok." Molly replied.

"Well, I have to go. I'll make sure to check up on your apartment and you later." Pepper said, and she hung up.

"Bye." Molly replied into the emptiness. Her throat was sore, anyway.

_On the final day I die_

_I want to hold my head up high_

_I want to tell you that I tried_

Molly had managed to wander across the gym yesterday, and after a brief and embarrassing altercation with one of the agents, word had come down that she was able to use the facilities as she waited for the tracking serum to wear off. Molly had found a pair of boxing gloves and a punching bag and decided to go crazy on it as means to keep in shape and take out her anger and sadness. M olly wiped the sweat from her forehead, turning around to find Natasha standing there watching her.

"How long have you been there?" she asked wincing a little bit. She must have been quite a spectacle; she was clearly untrained. Natasha jerked her head as if to say _"long enough."_

"Are you here to check up on me?" Molly asked, innocently.

"That may have been a suggestion passed down." Natasha said cryptically. Since Molly couldn't quite understand her answer, she took it as a yes.

"I'm sorry that you're stuck playing babysitter, then. I'm not that interesting." Molly shrugged, taking off her gloves.

"Babysitter?" Natasha asked.

"I mean, you're here to watch me and check up on me. Right? They probably think that you're less scary because you can play nice, and come off as not intimidating. Like earlier when I got here you were completely different than you were on the bridge…Molly trailed off. Natasha probably didn't want a girl playing secret agent, and pretending like she could come up with astute observations.

"Impressive." Natasha noted coolly, no longer the warm friend that had fended off the "sharks" earlier. She wasn't the same businesslike, hard-as-steel agent on the bridge either. She was somewhere in between.

"Well, I'm no Sherlock." Molly shrugged. "Anyway, they're wrong. You scare the crap out of me. People who can change themselves so entirely, and who have been a secret agent and then promoted to Avenger, or however it works…" Molly just put her hands up in surrender.

"You're more than your appearances, too." Natasha pointed out. "Whatever the reason I came here, I wanted you to know, that my introduction to SHIELD wasn't easy either. I wish that someone had been sent to hold my hand and help me through it. The closest thing I had was Barton."

"Oh." Molly balked. "Are you…are you two… um…are—" Natasha stopped Molly before she made a complete fool out of herself.

"We're just partners." She said, firmly, but an eyebrow quirked up as if to ask _why?_ She continued on, as if the silent question hadn't been asked. "Anyway, I just wanted to make sure that you're not hiding away in your room and that if you need anything, all you have to do is let me know. There's something about you, Molly McKay." She didn't give any explanation, but there was something in her tone that made Molly feel an odd closeness to the agent.

"I hope that's a good thing." Molly smiled.

"Me too." Natasha agreed. A look crossed her face, and she seemed distant for a second. "I have to go."

"I'm going to go back to my room, too. Thank you, uh, should I call you Natasha still, or do you prefer—"

"Natasha's fine." The agent responded.

"Well, thanks for the talk, Natasha." Molly said, putting a hand up to her throat. It tingled a little bit. The agent nodded, gave something close to a smile, and then left in the opposite direction as Molly. The baker didn't know why, but she suddenly felt more at home.

_I wanna see the earth start shaking_

_I wanna see a generation_

_Finally waking up inside_

Molly sat at the table in the kitchen (well, the mini kitchen), reading over her notebook. She would have loved to bake, but she was sure that SHIELD hadn't stocked up on baking chocolate or half of the other ingredients she needed for her brainstorming sessions. She had only really come into the kitchen for a change in scenery, and had hoped that maybe by going through some of the cabinets or the contents of the refrigerator. She wanted to get the cupcake that she was working on right. She needed to find that missing elements, the thing that added depth to the flavors and made it more than just another chocolate cupcake. Molly pushed her chair away from the table to take another look at the fridge. Strawberry jelly? No. Hot sauce? It was an interesting idea…

"Are you hungry?" Molly let out a small scream of surprise as she jumped, glad, that she hadn't had her head stuck in the refrigerator. She spun around to see Captain America standing by the table. He was wincing a little. Molly leaned back against the fridge with a hand on over her heart, taking quick breaths, trying to overcome her surprise.

"Sorry, ma'am." He apologized. She waved a hand dismissively but was still trying to control her breathing.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm just a little on edge." Molly said, standing up and closing the door to the fridge. "And it's Molly.

"Ok." He nodded. "Are you hungry, Molly?"

"No." Molly shook her head, walking over closer to the table and closing the awkward distance between them. "I was just baking, actually." She said.

"Baking?" He asked.

"Well brainstorming baking. Bakestorming." She offered. He gave her a look. "I heard it coming out of my mouth, but I just couldn't stop it." Molly shrugged, and he laughed. It felt nice to joke with someone for a change.

"Don't you need ingredients to 'bakestorm'?" he asked, and Molly shook her head again.

"No. I mean it helps, but it's not necessary." Molly said, resting a hand on the chair that she had been sitting in. "Sometimes you can pair the flavors in your head, and come up with an initial list of ideas, and then when you have access to a kitchen and the ingredients, you start putting them together to see what works and what's better as a theory."

"Hm." He said. Molly had lost him with all of the baking talk, she could tell. She changed the subject.

"I'm a little surprised that you're here and not out fighting crime or chasing down aliens." Molly attempted to make small talk, hoping her tone made it clear that she wasn't attempting to criticize him or be condescending. "Being a superhero just seems like one of those things that takes up all of your free time." She put in, hoping to solidify her good intentions.

"I don't know if I'm a superhero, ma'-Molly." He corrected himself, but the sentence still ended awkwardly. She liked their shared awkwardness. It made him seem less intimidating and more…normal.

"Just a regular hero, then?" she asked. He smiled and she smiled back.

"Anyone can be a hero." He was modest. It was a nice way to offset Tony's enormous ego. "Anyway, I'm directing the troops from the base. Agent Barton is the one who has to do all of the go-between work." There was a part of Molly's heart that inexplicably sank at this news.

"Oh, that must be nice." She said, idly trying to keep out any disappointment that might seep into her voice.

"It's different. I have to admit, that I kind of like working in the field. Being on base does have its perks though." He weighed. She must have succeeded to seem detached.

"I'm sorry, am I keeping you from eating?" Molly asked turning herself, so that he could get past her and over to the counters.

"Not at all." He refused, but he moved past her and into the more kitchen-y area. "It was a nice delay." He offered. Molly walked around the table, to sit in a chair facing him in case he wanted to finish the conversation. He started to get out the makings of a grilled cheese sandwich, and Molly pulled her notes towards her to continue working on her cupcake. "I am sorry that you have to go through all of this." He spoke after a few minutes.

Molly looked up and found him looking at her from over the stove. She looked back at her notes, resuming some writing.

"I'm trying not to think about all of it." She shrugged. "I just want to live as if this were my new state-of-the-art militarized apartment or something." She let out a small breathy laugh.

"The more you ignore something, the harder it is to get over it. No matter how much you try to repress it, it just keeps creeping up on you." She looked up and met his glance for a second, before looking quickly away, a little embarrassed. "I know that accepting is hard to do." He added. Molly hadn't thought about the fact that maybe he would have a clue as to what it felt like to be her. All she knew him as was this great legend, but he had gone through stuff too. One day, he had been fighting in World War II, and then next thing he knows, he wakes up and is in 2012? He knew what it felt like to be out of place, probably more than anyone else here.

"I guess you do sort of know what it feels like to be a fish out of water, or a little fish in a big pond, or whatever." She tapped her pencil gently against the paper. "You know what it's like to not belong."

"You'll find where you belong." He assured, gently. "You just have to take what you like to do, and what you're good at, and what want to do, and you find a place. What are you good at?"

"Baking." Molly offered. "Taking care of people, making connections…." She trailed off, almost wanting to leave the last bit out, as she knew it would eclipse all of the others. "And I have a photographic memory too."

"A photographic memory?" he asked, flipping his grilled cheese.

"Yeah." Molly nodded, returning to her work. "Whenever I see stuff on papers or just general images, they stick."

"You have a photographic memory, and you're a baker?" he couldn't seem to grasp the concept. "Couldn't you do…anything?"

"Well, not _anything_. I mean there are plenty of things that require skills and not just memorization. Like being an athlete or a singer or a police officer or…a baker." Molly listed. "Which is why I'm a baker. It's something that I can continually work at and improve. And it's like, I never wanted to feel as if I was being used for my memory, like some sort of walking bookshelf or whatever for corporations or institutions. I didn't want to be a pawn. Of course, we both know how that worked out."

"I understand." He said. "Back when I was in the army, all I wanted to do was fight for my country and prove my worth. But, I was forced to just go around and act as the army's poster child. Being used is…" he trailed off. "But you'll find a place where you can use all of your skills, including your memory, and not feel used." Captain America finally walked over to the table to sit across from her, biting into his sandwich.

"Thanks." Molly smiled. "It's nice to hear reassuring words other than, 'don't be scared' or 'we'll catch him.' There are a lot more scary things out there besides just aliens."

He nodded, and then swallowed hard. "Anytime." An agent walked into the room.

"Captain America? Director Fury needs you on the bridge."

"Tell him I'm on my way." The Captain said, quickly finishing the last of his sandwich. The agent left as the Captain got up to return the plate to the sink. "I guess what you said earlier is true: we hardly get any free time." He said, and Molly smiled again. "But, it was nice to talk with you, Molly." He said, about to leave.

He was almost out the door, before Molly remembered something. "Captain?" He turned.

"Steve." He corrected.

"Steve." She repeated, inwardly celebrating the fact that she was now on a first name basis with Captain America. "At Tony Stark's party, when we met for the first time, I asked for a picture, but I was never really able to take it because….well…" she trailed off. "Do you think sometime, I could get that picture?"

"Of course." He nodded and smiled, before he exited. "Excuse me, doctor." On his way out, he almost bumped into someone, who coming in; Molly recognized to be the Hulk. Well, Dr. Banner.

"Quite alright." Banner responded giving a tight-lipped smile. "Oh!" he added, seeing Molly sitting at the table.

"Hi." Molly greeted, lifting a hand from her spot at the table.

"It's Ms. McKay, right?" he asked, entering the room and heading straight for the kitchen. He took a teakettle and put it on top of the stove.

"Molly." Molly corrected gently. "And you're Dr. Banner."

"Among other things." He said. Molly smiled and nodded looking down, unsure of how to respond. The two sat in the quiet before Molly decided that she just had to break it.

"Dr. Banner, can I ask you an odd and maybe too personal question coming from someone that you just met?" she asked from her seat, folding her hands and leaning forward.

"Well, if you're going to preface it like that, I don't see how I can say no." he responded, lightly. She took this as a joke, and smiled quickly, before moving on with her point.

"How do you accept that part of you that you don't want to become, but everybody knows you as?"

"I'm sorry, I don't quite get the question." He said slowly, looking at her from over the stove.

"Ok, so you're this famous scientist, and you probably do so many interesting things with your life, and you're this great person, but a lot of people only know you as the Hulk, and judge you because of that. But that's only one aspect of who you are, it shapes your life, but it doesn't define it. You know?"

"I'm starting to follow." He nodded.

"But, you were able to combine the scientist you with the Hulk you and become an all around great team member for the Avengers. How were you able to do that? How did you accept that part of yourself that you just wanted to hide from people?" Molly asked. He paused, obviously in thought. The teakettle whistled, and he shut the heat off, pouring himself a mug.

"I think…" he started, coming around so that he was closer to Molly. "Well, the first step is to actually want to accept that part of you, which is something that you've already done, but then you have to acknowledge what's holding you back from accepting it, and then just take a leap of faith. Sometimes others help with this; sometimes you just have to try something new until you realize that you're free. I guess I don't really have an answer. Just, keep trying." He shrugged sitting down at the table across from her. "I have a feeling that this isn't about being the girl attacked by aliens, though."

"Smart. I can see how you're a doctor." Molly smiled. "It's nothing compared to what you've no doubt gone through, but for just a normal girl like me, I don't know, it's silly, never mind." Molly said turning her attention back to her work.

"It's probably not silly. Just, don't let fear stop you from doing what you want to do with yourself." Molly looked up from her work and looked him in the eye.

"Thank you." She said, nodding. "I…I have to go do something, but I'll probably see you around."

"I can be found around." He agreed.

"Thanks again, Dr. Banner." Molly said, standing up from the table gathering her stuff.

"You can call me Bruce if you want." He offered, giving a "_why not_" gesture.

"Ok. Thank you, Bruce."

"I'm glad I could be of some help." He seemed a little confused but continued to go with it.

"Yeah." Molly said, leaving the kitchen with her stuff in her arms, setting about a new task. Rather than letting the agents hurry by her, Molly stepped in front of their path and forced them with politeness to help her figure out where she should go. Eventually Molly found herself on the bridge, the person of interest discussing something with a fellow agent. Molly idly touched her scar, patiently waiting the conversation to finish. Natasha turned around and seemed almost surprised to see Molly standing in front of her.

"Molly?" she asked.

"Since you're babysitting me, I have a favor to ask." Molly started.

_Feels like we're just waiting, waiting_

_While our hearts are just breaking, breaking_

_Feels like we've been fighting against the tide_

"Elbows in, shoulder forward, chin down, watch your legs." Natasha instructed circling Molly. Molly had been surprised when the agent offered to teach her a bit of martial arts the other day. Molly could only guess that Natasha was tired of watching Molly make a fool out of herself in the gym, or that Director Fury had directed the agent to amuse the baker. As it was, Molly had been waking up at 4:30 for the past couple of mornings to put some training in with Natasha, before the agent had to get back to work. She was happy that this desire of hers had bonded her with her protectors, so that maybe they could see that she was slightly cooler than the other damsels in distress out there.

"Speed. Accuracy. Timing. Focus. Power." Natasha stated. "All of these are essential. You must be aware of your surroundings as well. Use your peripherals, but don't let them distract you from what's right in front of you." Natasha continued to circle, as if she were a shark. Molly's whole body was tense in anticipation, as she stood in guard position. "You have to be ready for anything, but that doesn't mean tensing up. Be flexible. Roll with the punches." The Avenger smirked at her own little joke there. "You have to know how to best utilize your position." The first fifteen minutes of each training session always seemed to be doctrine and a lesson on good practices. "Do you do yoga?" The question seemed out of place from the intensity of it all.

"I used to, but I gave it up." Molly replied. The instructor had gotten a little too out there for her.

"Pick it up again." There was no explanation given, which only made Molly want to follow Natasha's advice more. "Alright. Let's work on blocking." Natasha started.

An hour and a half later, Molly was breathing heavily as Natasha decided that it was time for her to get to work. "You learn fast." She commented, as Molly stepped out of the ring.

"You're just saying that." Molly breathed.

"Well, you're not a slow learner." Natasha adjusted her statement, and Molly laughed, putting on her flip-flops.

"Thank you." She said, letting her hair of the French braid that she had tried to contain it in. Just then Barton walked in. He didn't look as surprised as Molly thought he should be.

"Fury wants to see me?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow. Barton nodded. "See you later, Molly." Natasha said to the baker, before walking out. Molly watched her go, and then turned to put on her flip-flops. She had packed the exercise clothes when she had ransacked her dresser to pack for her escape, but only had the pair of boots that she had been wearing and a pair of flip flops for shoes, thus she did most of her training barefoot. As she turned to follow Natasha's path out the door, she was a little surprised when she found Clint standing there, waiting for her.

"Want company?" he asked.

"Sure." Molly agreed as he moved to her side and the pair walked out of the facility. "I'm just going to go back to my room." He nodded as they walked in silence for a couple of moments longer. She didn't know why she was so disappointed. Clint had never been the most talkative, friendly person there. The company he offered was more of that of a bodyguard than of an actual companion.

"Can I ask you a question?" This surprised her.

"Um, sure." Molly said, her eyebrows furrowing a little bit in confusion.

"Why are you training?"

She didn't know what answer to give him. Should she confess that she hoped that maybe when this was over she could find a place within the ranks of SHIELD? Should she admit that sometimes she felt more at home here than she did in the back of Monarch Bakery? Should she tell him that part of it was because she wanted to impress him for some reason? Or should she go with the overarching truth of it all?

"I'm scared." She went with the last of her considerations. She knew that he wouldn't be surprised. People expected her to be frightened. The fact that she was acting relatively normal and wasn't breaking down in tears every few seconds was probably what surprised them the most. The fact that it was the first time she had ever openly admitted this fear, and that it was the first confession of emotion that she made, was probably lost on them.

"Me too." He stated. He didn't look at her; he just kept walking. Molly didn't know what to say. She could feel her face shift through different emotions as she fumbled around for some sort of response. There was confusion, and surprise, and a feeling of being lost and of course more fear. He must have seen her or accurately guessed what she was feeling. "You want honesty? Well, this guy is scary. He's powerful and clever and confusing." Molly found herself getting chills as he described his own fear. "But we'll get him."

"But how do you _know_ that?" She asked, looking at him. She had responded automatically, without even giving herself the chance to try to cover up some of her vulnerability. "Like you said, he's powerful and he can tap into whatever he wants, and transport wherever he wants, and—"

"We'll catch him because we have to." He cut her off. "There's too much to lose." Clint turned to look her dead in the eye for the first time. They had stopped walking. He was dead serious, and Molly was certain that he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that he hadn't just lied to her. But what if his power wasn't enough? What if he died trying? Molly couldn't handle the thought and snapped her head away from him, looking at the other side of the hall.

"I hope so." She said quietly, resuming walking. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him move towards her, but he stopped and returned to his position of looking ahead and walking in silence. "What if you capture him and it's part of his plan? Or what if after you capture him—"

"I promise that you'll be kept safe." Clint stopped suddenly, this time. "We won't let him get to you again." He said earnestly, looking intensely at her. Molly wanted to believe him more than anything, but there was a small part of her that doubted his words. She knew that he meant them, but Talbot had slipped past SHIELD on multiple occasions, and had gotten close enough to hurt her twice. Who's to say a third time was entirely out of the question? "Trust me." Clint said. For the first time, his eyes had a new look. Almost pleading.

"I know you mean it. I just can't get over…" she made a gesture with her hands that usually meant "_all of this._"

"Don't let fear get the better of you. It can motivate you, but it can't ever control you." The pleading was gone, and he was back to being hard and intense. Molly stood frozen in his glance. "Never let Talbot or anyone see you afraid either. Fear gives them power." She was reminded of her conversation with Bruce. She had never realized how scared she had been her whole life.

"It's easier said than done. I'm not trained for this like you are. I'm just some girl. That's why I need you." Molly said. A pause sat between them as what she just said sank in. "And you know, SHIELD, and the rest of the Avengers." She recovered. "_Great recovery, Molly._" She thought to herself, sarcastically. "_Real smooth._"

"You're not just some girl." He refuted quietly. The two took another pause and then resumed walking in quiet company. "I didn't have the easiest adjustment to life at SHIELD either. Life was never…" he trailed off. "You just learn to get past certain things."

"I guess I just have a hard time 'getting past things.'" Molly responded. There was a pause as a pair of agents walked by and they put the conversation on hold until they passed.

"You're doing better than most would if they were in your situation." He commented.

"I try really hard to make it look that way." Molly let out a small laugh.

"You handle it well even when you think nobody's watching." He disagreed. Molly looked at him, squinting a little and tilting her head, in essence asking, _you've been watching me_.

"I'm just glad there's such great people here to help me through it. Hold my hand and such." Molly moved on eventually, as they continued their walk. "Even before I got here, you were looking after me."

"It's my job." He refuted, modestly.

"You're good at it." They had reached her door. She opened the door, and turned around to stand in her doorway. "Honestly, Clint. Thank you." It was her time to look into his eyes, and she hoped that on the inside he was reeling in the same way that she did when he looked at her.

"You're welcome." He answered.

"I'll see you later, then?" she asked and he nodded. "Ok." She turned around and walked into her room, closing the door behind her, and leaning against it. Going home just got hard.

_This world is not my own_

_But I still can hear the sound_

_Of my heart beating out_

Molly served the last plate, before finally sitting down. She had decided to make the group a nice dinner as way to thank them, and to give them a chance to relax on their night off-duty. Of course, she was limited to what she found in the Helicarrier's cabinets, so the "nice dinner" consisted of boxed spaghetti, canned tomato sauce, and garlic toast. She hoped to offset this by the few bottles of wine that she had managed to locate, not that she imagined any of them getting too drunk. "Nights off" had a different meaning for special agents.

"What better way to celebrate a night off than with a late dinner and a couple of bottles of wine? Eh?" Tony asked.

"I hope that it tastes ok." Molly said eying her spaghetti. "It's the best I could find."

"I'm sure it tastes great." Bruce reassured her.

"Aw, thank you." Molly smiled back at him. "Take a bite first." There were a couple of laughs around the table.

"Hey, pass the wine over here." Tony said reaching for the bottle. As it was easily within her reach, Molly took it and passed it along to him so that he could pour himself a glass. "Anyone else?" He held up the bottle.

"I'll have some." Steve said, passing over his glass. Tony filled it, and then stepped out from his seat, walking over to place the glass in front of Steve.

"How about you, Molly. Any wine?" Tony asked. Molly paused, considering it. "Come on, it's been a rough week. Even Old Man Winter has a glass." He urged, gesturing towards Steve. What was probably meant to be a persuasive comment was met with blank stares.

"Old Man Winter?" Steve asked.

"You're old. You were in the ice block. Don't worry you'll get it someday." Tony said, ignoring the fact that no one else at the table thought that the nickname really showcased his skill for references. "So, how 'bout it Molly?" he returned to his original quest.

"Alright, just a little bit. I'm a bit of a light weight." She confessed, overseeing the pouring of her glass. "That's…that's more than enough." Molly reached over to pull her glass away from Tony, but not before he finished pouring her a whole glass. She had only wanted half at most.

"Barton?" He asked, and Clint silently passed over his glass. "Agent Romanoff?" Natasha nodded and he acquiesced. He didn't bother to ask Bruce, and ignored the protests that came out of the scientist. He put the bottle down and returned to his seat at the table, grabbing his glass. He remained standing. "I'd like to propose a toast." He announced. "To Ms. Molly McKay."

"Me?" Molly asked surprised.

"Thank you for this wonderful dinner. And without you, we'd probably still be scrounging around trying to pointlessly connect scientists, but thanks to you accidentally putting yourself in harm's way, we're able to get to the point and skip straight to catching the bastards." Molly realized that despite what he said, the toast was not actually in her honor. "To Molly." He held his glass up high.

"To Molly." Everyone else chorused, albeit a little half-heartedly, before drinking. Everyone, that was, except for Natasha.

"Stark, that was a terrible toast." Natasha criticized.

"Would you like to do better?" he invited, giving a grand gesture of his arm before sitting down. Natasha stood up gracefully and took a second to consider her words.

"To Molly, who's been brave even when death is at her door. May we all have a bit of her courage." While this toast did have more to do with Molly, the baker didn't really consider it to be as light-hearted as she thought toasts should be. Once again, almost everyone drank.

"Well that was depressing." Tony remarked.

"What?" Natasha asked, sinking into her seat.

"You basically told her that she was going to die any second." He gestured at Molly.

"You missed the point." Natasha returned.

"Anyone else want to take a shot at a toast? Talk about the futility of life?" Tony asked, opening the floor up. "How about you Captain, any toasts from back in the day?"

"I don't really know—." Steve protested

"Not even one you and Patton used to do together?" Tony pushed.

"Alright, there was one that I remember." Steve gave in, standing up. "To her we drink, for her we pray, our voices silent never; For her we'll fight, come what may, the stars and stripes forever!"

Tony groaned, but joined everyone else in drinking. "Stereotypical." Molly could hear him mutter.

Emboldened by the little bit of alcohol in her system, Molly stood up. "I have a toast." She announced as their eyes turned to her. "Something my grandfather used to tell me, but I'm pretty sure this fits in well here." She took a pause, swallowing, as she looked around the table before beginning "Always remember to forget the things that made you sad. But never forget to remember the things that made you glad. And you guys make me glad. To the Avengers!" Molly toasted. It was the first toast that everyone seemed pleased with, and there were smiles around the table (as well as a "Here, here!" from Tony) as everyone took a sip of their wine.

"Well, if we're gong around, I have short one." Bruce said rising. "May we be happy and our enemies know it." Before anyone could drink, Stark chimed in with his own version.

"Here's to those who wish us well. As for the rest, they can go to hell!" Tony said as soon as his glass left his lips, so he could bring it back once more to drink again. Molly let out a laugh and took another sip of her drink. Her toast and certainly taken quite a turn. "C'mon Barton give us one." Tony encouraged.

To her surprise, Clint rose. "Drink to-day and drown all sorrow; you shall, perhaps, not drink tomorrow; best while you have it, use your breath, there is no drinking after death." The twist of the last line sent them into cheers again and they drank. Molly didn't usually drink so fast and could feel herself growing a little fuzzy, but she ignored it. Tony was right, this had been a hard night and she deserved a drink. And for all of the toasting they were doing, they weren't drinking that much. Besides, it was nice to relax and joke around for a change. She liked seeing the more human sides of these heroes. Maybe Pepper's advice from earlier was more accurate than Molly thought.

"The problem with some people is that when they aren't drunk….they're sober!" Tony announced and everyone laughed, but only about half of the table drank. Soon they gave up the toasting in favor of eating before the spaghetti turned cold. As the night progressed they continued to go around alternating between eating, telling funny stories, toasting, and just enjoying each other's company on a night where no one was running or fighting for their life.

"Last of the wine." Tony announced about two hours later, pouring himself the last bit from the bottle. Molly had slowed down her drinking once they moved into eating and telling stories, and was pleased that she had never gotten beyond the "slightly fuzzy" phase. She couldn't imagine how embarrassing it would be stumbling around in front of this crowd. Especially Clint. "End of the night. Who wants to make the last toast?" he asked, holding his wine glass at the ready.

"I will." Natasha said standing up. "I'll end with something from back home. Давайте выпьем за то, чтобы мы испытали столько горя, сколько капель вина останется в наших бокалах." It was beautiful, but looking around the table, Molly could tell that nobody really understood a word of what she was saying. Natasha paused, letting the Russian sink in before she translated. "May we suffer as much sorrow as drops of wine we are about to leave in our glasses."

"Cheers!" Everyone chorused, drowning the last of his or her alcohol. For a couple of moments, everyone sat in comfortable warmth around the table, quietly content with each other's company. Natasha broke it first.

"Well, I'm going to call it. Plenty of work to do tomorrow." She said, "Good night, and thanks for dinner Molly." She said, sauntering off from the table.

"I should probably leave too." Molly said standing up. "I'll get the dishes tomorrow or something."

"Don't worry about it." Steve dismissed. "We can clean up."

"Speak for yourself." Tony contested. "I have plenty of work to do. Have a multi-billion dollar industry to run, you know." He said getting up from the table. "Speaking of which, gotta take this." He had produced his cell phone, and was now speaking into it as if there was an emergency on the other line, despite the fact that nobody had heard any buzzing or ringing of any sort.

"I can help out." Bruce offered.

"Well, thank you." Molly said, honestly touched. She had never expected them to be such good people. It was one thing to be brave and heroic, another to be decent. "Have a good night, everyone. Sleep well." She bid, as she started to leave the bridge. She could hear some footsteps behind her, and soon Barton was beside her. He offered no explanation, and Molly didn't ask. It wasn't their way.

"Dinner was really good." He complimented, and Molly looked at her feet smiling. She always felt like a middle school girl or something. The way she looked at her feet, and played with her hair.

"Thanks." She answered. "I'm glad you liked it."

"I did." He offered a small smile. The smile made her stomach flip, and she bit the inside of her lip (another middle school trait that she hadn't dropped), but she managed to smile back. They had reached her room. She opened the door and turned to face him. He stood in her doorway and they were staring at each other again. They spent a lot of time looking into each other's eyes. In fact, she felt like the majority of her interactions with Clint were just exchanging stares and quiet thoughts, but they were so meaningful she couldn't even imagine spoiling them with words. The silence held way more meaning than anyone word could give, and words were so sharp. What if they cut the tension?

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he was talking. "I'll..." he cleared his throat. "Good night, Molly." He stood there for a second, hesitating. Molly blinked a couple of times coming out of whatever she had been in so that she could answer.

"Good night, Clint." She responded softly. He turned and left, and she closed the door, walking to the shower, the question she had been about to ask still on her lips. _Do you want to come in?_

_Storms on the wasteland_

_Dark clouds on the plains again_

_We were born into the fight_

Molly stared up at her ceiling and said a prayer for Clint. She didn't pray a lot, but this felt like a good moment. He had been called into the field, which meant that something was happening with Talbot.

_"_Dear God." She whispered. "Please don't take him."

_Where the weak are finally strong_

_Where the righteous right the wrongs_

_Still looking for a home_

_In a world where I belong_

Molly decided that today she was going to visit a new part of the ship, after spending a little over a week in the same couple of rooms, she figured it was time to branch out and explore a little more. Plus, Natasha had gone with Clint and Steve into the field, so she hadn't had anyone to train with today and was allowed to sleep in and take her time to explore. She had been wandering for about half an hour and was met with nothing by "Authorized Personnel Only" and "Restricted Area" signs. Eventually she had wandered into a hallway that was slightly different than the ones she was used to. On one side, a couple of the rooms were made of glass, and in one of the rooms were two familiar figures. Tony and Bruce were inside the glass room, which, based on the equipment and the images that she could see on the various screens, was a lab. They had to be working on the Perditrix together. As she grew closer, she could see Tony animatedly discussing something with Bruce who was shaking his head. Tony began to gesture as if he was explaining a list of things, and Bruce started to relent. He opened his mouth to respond, but caught sight of Molly, and raised a hand in greeting. Molly waved a little, and continued walking, embarrassed at having been caught staring and not wanting to bother them.

"Molly!" Tony called, his head sticking out the door. "Come in for a sec."

"Oh no. That's probably restricted. You probably need clearances and stuff for that, and I don't really have any."

"Fury had you there for the briefing, it's fine." Tony dismissed.

"Stark, I think—" Bruce started.

"Besides, you probably won't understand most of it, right? Just a bunch of funny pictures on screens." Tony interrupted, casting a look at Bruce. Molly almost would have been insulted if it wasn't so accurate.

"I don't want to get in the way." Molly protested.

"You won't get in the way." He refuted, "Get in here." Not wanting to draw attention to the arguments from the other agents, she decided to acquiesce and enter the lab. The type of technology in the lab was overwhelming. There were machines that she didn't recognize, and other things that looked a bit like smart boards, only cooler. Then there were the virtual screens where images seemed to be frozen in mid air. Bruce was playing with one, and she quickly realized that it was a virtual _touch_screen. Molly looked around in awe, wandering around the lab.

"This is where you guys work all day?" she asked

"We've got all of the toys." Tony smirked.

"Yeah." Molly sighed. "I thought that I was going to be cool for buying the new iPad for myself for Christmas. I need to get one of these instead." She gently picked up a virtual touch screen that was lying on a nearby table, not wanting to change the screen from the image it was on.

"They're not officially out on the market yet, but if we're talking Christmas, maybe I can find a way—"

"Stark." Bruce interrupted. Molly was entranced with the image on the screen.

"Is something wrong with it?" Stark asked, coming around to look at the picture with her.

"It's one of the models that goes along with Dr. James' theories of compressibility, but it's wrong here." Molly said pointing at a part of the image. "This shows an ionic bond, but that doesn't happen naturally. You have to add a couple of electrons and make an artificial bond between the two."

"You can't…" Tony began.

"There was a theory put out about that." Banner interrupted, coming over to stand between the two of them.

"By Dr. Laughn." Molly nodded.

"Dr. Annette Laughn?" Tony asked.

"No, Victor Laughn.I think he's her husband?"

"I thought I heard that you didn't know a lot about science?" Banner asked.

Molly looked up from the picture, finally. "I don't. It just reminds me of some of the labs that my father used to bring home to grade. He would go over them with me and teach me what his students were doing wrong, and give me little science lessons sometimes." Molly smiled at the memory. "I just did my best to remember everything he taught me, because well, it's what's left." She shrugged. Suddenly, there was the sound of loud footsteps, and the three looked up from their conversation to see armed agents marching down the hall, and in the middle, smiling at her …Molly stumbled backwards. Tony and Bruce both reached out to catch her, but she was able to steady herself. _Talbot_. They had gotten him. He was on the same ship as her now. She shivered.

"They caught him without me." Tony seemed disappointed. Molly placed the tablet on the table to avoid dropping it.

"Where's Clint?" Molly asked, her nostrils flaring, as they tended to do when she was upset. "And Natasha and Steve?" she added, between breaths as if she was upset about all three of them.

"They're probably on the bridge." Bruce said, attempting to calm her down. Tony was oblivious to her state.

"Well, come on. Let's go." He said, rushing out of the lab. Bruce and Molly followed quickly behind. With people who knew where they were going, getting to the bridge only took about five minutes. Standing there, talking with Director Fury was the rest of the Avengers team. Molly let out a sigh of relief, saying a quick, "_Thank you" _in her head to God for having listened to her prayer.

"Oh good, you're here." Director Fury acknowledged their presence, as the three moved to join the rest of their friends by the table. "As you can see, Ms. McKay, it would appear that your time with us has come to an end."

Molly was crushed.

She tried not to let it show too much.

"So, the tracking," she gestured to her neck. "Has worn off?"

"According our doctor, you're all clear as of yesterday." Director Fury informed. It had been worth a shot. A week ago she would have done anything to be able to go home, now she just wanted to stay. It was weird to have people know her name and to seek her out, not for what she offered them (an silent ear for Janet, a delicious baked good for customers, a nice profit for Dianna), but because they genuinely liked her. She had enjoyed training every morning with Natasha and growing to understand the Russian agent. Her interactions with Tony after Pepper's numerous phone calls had always left her laughing. Steve and Bruce had always been understanding of her. And Clint…

"Good." She said, giving a weak attempt to smile. "It'll be nice to sleep in my own bed." Her nostrils flared.

"We have a jet waiting for you above. Ready to go in twenty minutes." The Director responded.

"Let me just…go pack up my stuff." She said swallowing, turning around and going off to her room by herself. She could hear voices behind her, as she attempted to stop being a baby and to hold back the tears. She hardly knew these people anyway. It just seemed like she did. It was all one big "my hero" complex that had brought them all together. It wasn't real. She had to go back to her real life now. She took a lot of care to pack her bag, pushing each minute that had been given to her left in the ship so that eighteen of her twenty minutes had elapsed before she finally came out of her room, and found her way up to the dock where the jet was waiting for her. She didn't hug anyone, but gave handshakes around as each person said a few words to her, wishing her luck. If she ever needed anything, she could call Tony, Steve, or Bruce. Natasha praised her growth as a fighter, and maintained that there was still something special about her. Clint said that he would take her home.

They flew in silence. Molly wouldn't even have been able to come up with any words to say if he initiated conversation. The heartbreak would be too much to bear. They had never said much to each other, because they had never needed any. Sound was a poor conductor of their feelings and their thoughts; their eyes were much better suited for that. She closed her eyes, breathing to herself. Most of her thoughts were just rambles, meant to make her feel better, feel like she had lost something, but they were just justifications for a stupid heartbreak over a silly crush. They landed at Stark tower, and Clint climbed out of the plane along with her.

"Pepper's going to take you home." He said shortly.

"Ok." Molly said, staring at him. She imagined that he was struggling through this moment as much as she was. She imagined that they were just as attached to each other as a couple who professed their love for each other every day. They had too, in their own way. She was sure of it. She could feel it in the unbearable tension that always lay underneath their silences.

"Goodbye, Molly." He whispered. Would his voice have broken if he said it louder?

"Goodbye, Clint." She responded, equally quiet. Her voice would have broken. "I said it a lot, but thanks for everything."

"Anytime." He answered. They stood there standing and looking at each other as Pepper came out.

"Molly!" She greeted happily. Molly turned away from Clint, and she could hear him move back into the jet. "How are you?" Pepper asked.

Molly was struggling on the inside. So much had just been taken away from her, but she had to realize that no matter what she had begun to think, she did not belong at SHIELD. SHIELD was a phase. She now had skills to fend off a mugger. She was a baker. Just a baker. Molly McKay of Monarch Bakery. It had too nice of a ring to it to ignore. This was her life now and forever. There was no getting past that. This was where she belonged. Now she just really had to convince herself that

"I'm great." Molly lied. She had to.

* * *

**Ending Thoughts: **_So, this was really long, and rather than writing out every single interaction she had over the course of six days with the group, I decided to just show it in snip bits, and let it come through in the little details. Basically, she really bonded with people and has started to overcome some internal battles. Also, I realize that the dinner/toasting scene is one of the more fan-fiction-y scenes in the story, and maybe a little out of character, but I thought it would show how comfortable they are together and that there's a bond between her and them now. Anyway, tell me what you think. I love to hear it!_


	11. Chapter Ten

**(Chapter 10) Carry On**

**Author's Note:: **_Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Valentine's Day and all of the other holidays that I have passed since I last posted. Sorry it's been so long. There have been some comments as to when we'll finally see some movement on the Clint and Molly aspect of the plot. Trust me, it's coming, and it'll be great. Oh, as a warning: this chapter is a little more "Teen" than past ones might have been. The language gets a little harsh at some points._

* * *

_The lights go out, I am all alone_

_All the trees outside are buried in the snow_

_I spend my night dancing with my own shadow_

_And it holds me and it never lets me go_

Molly sorted through her keys, separating the one for her apartment from the rest and sticking it into the lock. It felt like a lifetime ago since she had last stood here and done something so...normal. She was a little surprised that the lock clicked and the door opened for her. This was still _her_ apartment, but it felt almost as if she was breaking in. Molly took a couple of steps in and automatically turned around to lock the door behind her. She paused with her hand on the lock. While before this had always been a necessary and comforting measure of safety, last time she did this it had almost cost her her life. Molly slowly turned back around, leaving the door unlocked.

Her apartment seemed foreign to her, and not just because some of the furniture had been replaced and slightly rearranged. Maybe it was the contrast of the large airy right room in the middle of the bustling city in comparison to the small uniform metallic closet, which floated above the earth. Here, she had her whole life sitting on the shelves and resting in her cabinets and closets. There, she had a clear desk and a mostly empty dresser. Here, she was left in peaceful isolation. She hardly interacted with anyone in her apartment building, and she lived by herself. There, she couldn't walk through a doorway without almost running into someone. There was always someone around to talk to or to just _be there_. She wished there was someone to be here now. She felt…lonely. This was the foreign sensation that filled her now and that had poisoned her apartment. She had never been so lonely in her life. In college she had relished the freedom of independence that came with going to school with a bunch of strangers in an unfamiliar city far away from home. When she had come back, she had purposefully chosen a studio apartment to avoid having a roommate. She never went out with anyone from work or elsewhere, really. When she wanted genuine company, she called her mother. If she wanted loud company to distract her from something or as some white noise, she went to the diner to sit and listen to Janet. Work was work and where she spent the majority of her time. Yet she had only built casual relationships with her boss and one other coworker, Saoirse. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with Molly. This love of solitude wasn't some tragic effect left by the death of her father. If anything it was sort of a defense mechanism that she had learned from her childhood, but that made her seem more private than she actually was. She talked to people, shared things with people, knew how to converse in polite conversation, but she preferred to be alone She was an introvert and this was just the way she operated. Until now. Now, Moly wanted a friend. A real friend. A normal friend. A friend to get her mind off of how much she had just gone through and just lost and the fact that maybe the greater reason her home felt foreign to her was because in some way she had moved on from her life here. Her apartment hadn't changed. She had. Now she wanted to change back. To go back to normal. She had to if she didn't want her heart to explode.

Molly took out her cellphone. She had ignored it during her stay on the Helicarrier under orders from Director Fury. She'd been gone for a little over a week and all she had were four voicemails. The first was a pocket dial from her mother, the next was Dianna imploring Molly to come back soon. Molly had been informed that she everything had been sorted out for her return to work, so she didn't need to respond to Dianna's message. The third message was from her mother again, but this time she was asking how things were going with Desi and that she hoped Molly's friend was starting to feel better and how proud she was that she had such a kind daughter. Molly swallowed hard and her nostrils flared as she hit the 9, saving it to deal with it later. The last message was from Saoirse. She wanted to make sure everything was going well with Molly and that apparently Dianna was going insane and driving everyone else crazy too. This was only made worse by the fact that one of the other bakers and the part-time cashier had started hooking up in one of the back closets and had gotten caught so they were fired too. Saoirse went on a little more about the happenings of Monarch and then she wanted Molly to remind her to tell the funny story about the small fire in her apartment building.

"You think there'd be interesting people in a bakery in the middle of Manhattan, but everyone's so dull here, Molly. Get back soon. Besides, you're the only one who can put up with me. Bye!" The phone clicked and prompted Molly to do something with the message.

Molly felt terrible. She liked Saoirse and considered her to be a friend, but she never thought that Saoirse would call to check up on her. She had thought their friendship was confined to the bakery, at least Molly had confined it to the bakery. While at work the two would laugh She had never called Saoirse outside of expressly work related things, and anytime Saoirse had invited her to go out, Molly had always politely turned her down. Molly pressed the button on her phone designated for returning calls. The phone rang a couple of times and then,

"Hello?"

"Hi, Saoirse? It's Molly." Molly started.

"Molly! Thank goodness! I've been going crazy. It's about time you got back." Saoirse was just as animated over the phone as she was in purpose.

"Sorry. There wasn't really anything I could do to get back quicker."

"Shit. I'm sorry; I forgot. How's your family?" Saoirse instantly sobered up.

"My family?" Molly asked, quickly remembering that Desi had been the cover for her mother. Everyone else believed that she had a family emergency that she had to deal with. This was why she hated lying. She could never keep her stories straight. "Better, thanks for asking." There was a small pause, but before Saoirse could continue the conversation and ask more questions that Molly had to give fake answers to, Molly got arund to the purpose of her call. "I was calling to see if you wanted to get breakfast tomorrow before work.

"Before work? Don't you get there at like five?" Saoirse asked.

"Oh, no. Sorry, I meant, before _your_ work. I can have Steph or Paul finish pulling things out of the oven and setting up the displays and take off a little early and meet you there." Molly hadn't cleared this by Dianna, but she was sure it wouldn't be a problem.

"Oh, ok. Where were you thinking?' Saoirse asked.

"There's this diner I go to that's not too far away." Molly responded almost reflexively before realizing that this inevitably meant that Saoirse and Janet would meet. She had a sort of twisted pleasure just thinking about how they would react to each other. "I can text you the address."

"Sounds great. Tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

"Bye."

"Bye." Molly clicked off the phone, and though she was glad that she had made the plan she still felt a little empty. She sighed, trying to ignore the fact that her eyes were welling up and walked over to sit on the edge of her bed. Slowly, she took off her shoes and kicked them into the middle of the floor, before looking up and staring into her kitchen. The cast iron skillet sat on the counter. It hadn't been put away since she tried to use to defend herself.

That's when Molly started to cry.

She cried because she was afraid for her life after being held hostage and having an alien break into her apartment and try to kidnap and kill her. She cried for the pain she felt when her throat had been cut and she needed to be rushed to the hospital. She cried because she had to lie to her friends and family about what was happening in her life. She cried because she felt as if she had ignored and neglected Saoirse who just wanted to be her friend. She cried because she was happy that she had somehow survived the whole ordeal. She cried for the heartbreak of being ripped away from her new friends who had quickly accepted her for who she was. She cried because Clint was there and she didn't know in time to tell him. She cried because she felt lost and out of place in her home. Molly cried because she hadn't cried since everything began and she felt like she deserved it. She had put on a brave face, rolled with the punches, reacted, and never once given in to any of the tears that had slowly been accumulating. Now it was time to let go, and let go she did. She cried herself to sleep, the one safe haven she felt as if she still had.

_I move slow and steady  
But I feel like a waterfall_

_Yeah, I move slow and steady_

_Past the ones that I used to know_

"Molly!" Molly zoned back in from having completely spaced out. Saoirse had stopped in front of Molly and was waving a hand in front of her face. "Helloooo. Where'd you go?"

"Sorry. I was just thinking about my friend." Molly responded, moving Saoirse's hand and starting to walk again. She had dreamed about Barton last night and hadn't been able to get him off of her mind since. She kept returning the moment of him standing over her on the fire escape, offering a hand to help her up.

"Your friend?" Saoirse asked, dropping her hand down from her side and hurrying to catch back up. Molly realized that she had given a bit more of the truth than she should have. It didn't hold up with her cover story and was a completely out of the blue piece of information. She didn't know how to continue the conversation without any of her lie unraveling so she kept moving on.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm here now." She could tell that Saoirse really wanted to know more and continue the subject, and if it wasn't an issue of national security, Molly might have been convinced to tell Saoirse the truth. Maybe after the problem was all solved and public on the TV, she could let Saoirse in on the role that she played. Sort of like a court case. "Do you have any preferences as to breakfast?" she quickly changed the subject.

"I thought you said that we were going to the diner you go to a lot." Saoirse said slowly.

"Oh, right. Sorry, I completely forgot." Molly responded. Saoirse stopped again, pulling on Molly's arm, forcing her to turn and face the Blonde.

"Molly, you don't forget things."

"I mean, it slipped my mind." Molly corrected herself, attempting to smile and shrug. It must have looked as fake as it was.

"Are you ok?" Saoirse asked, peering at her. She looked more concerned than Molly had ever seen her.

"Of course I'm ok." Molly answered

"Really? Because you missed a lot of work, and I've never seen you miss a day before. You came back the first time and were…_different_. And then you left again right away. When I went to visit to check up on you because I was worried that you were acting weird and disappearing and there was a strange man staying in your apartment and I've never heard you mention a roommate or a friend or anything—"

"I was subletting." Molly interjected. Saoirse gave her a look, that made Molly quickly shut her mouth and let her friend continue.

"Then you actually called me back out of the blue as if everything as all normal to invite me to breakfast, which I'm really glad for, but you've never done this before. It's not like you. Besides, ever since we left Monarch your head has been up in the clouds." Saoirse paused. "No bullshit, are you dying?" If she wasn't so serious, Molly might have laughed off the accusation, but Saoirse was clearly worried. She had taken the time to piece together enough of clues to know that something was up, but she had missed the chain that linked them all together: the time of her disappearances. She had forgotten that the series of events really started after her job at Stark Towers. If she had that one piece of information, maybe she could figure everything out on her own, or at least enough for Molly to feel ok filling in the rest of the gaps. Part of her considered dropping a clue for Saoirse. Molly wanted her to know. She wanted everyone to know, so they could understand. How could she be expected to just go back to being a normal citizen after hall she had experienced? A part of her could almost understand Janet's cravings to make something out of Captain America's heroic save. In Janet's simple mind and simple life she had been shaken to the core. Molly's experience was of course more dramatic and traumatic and actually a big deal, but still. When the world changes itself around with you in the middle of it all, it's a struggle to make things fit into what you think you know and who you think you are. Unlike Janet, Molly had no problem with this the first time the world changed, but this second time…things were different. After what she'd seen, the friendships that she'd made, the world somehow seemed emptier without them. The emptiness that she had started to feel last night was expanding with each second that passed by, separating her from the time spent on the Helicarrier. Now that she was thrown back into normal life she felt more estranged by her abnormality than ever, especially since she knew things that were just stories and dreams to the people around her. On the Helicarrier she had been normal for once, and maybe even a little bit special. She missed the feeling.

"Have you ever woken up and just been in this weird mood? It's hard to explain, but you just don't feel like you. Kind of like you're living in a movie, being pushed along by the plot and just watching the rest of life move on like normal. I don't know, I've just felt different lately."

"So, it's just a temporary mood thing then?" Saoirse asked sounding entirely unconvinced. It didn't explain Molly's strange absences or the men in her apartment, but maybe it would help Saoirse understand some of her actions now.

"Don't worry about me. I'm doing my best to break out of it and set myself straight." Molly reassured, and they began on their way to the diner again.

"Well, if you _really_ want to break out of it, you'd come to Girl's Night on Friday. Girls get half off drinks at this bar my friend goes to. You should come." Saoirse had regained her usually animated tone. "It'll be fun."

"I'd better not. I've been away for a while and have some work to do, like errands and chores and such." Molly declined.

"There's the Molly I know." Saoirse teased. Molly smiled. "But if you change your mind, you have my number."

"Ok." Molly nodded and smiled and they continued on a little while in silence before Molly felt bad for killing yet another conversation and decided to pick it back up again. "So, who are you going with?"

"My roommate and some girls from the apartment building." They had reached the diner and Molly stopped in front of the door, ready to push it in. "We're here?" Saoirse asked. Molly nodded and entered, holding the door open for her friend. The hostess at the station looked up and seeing Molly, gave a wide smile.

"Molly! How are you? It's been a while."

"Hi, Michelle." Molly greeted. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well." She held up a hand with a shining rock attached to a gold band, gracefully wrapping around her finger. "Really well."

"Congratulations." Molly smiled, excited for her casual acquaintance. The feeling as if someone had hit her in the gut was unexpected. It wasn't that she wanted to get married right away, in fact, she definitely wasn't ready, it was just the "what if" of it all. What if she could have stayed for another week or maybe even another month? Would a diamond ring seem so far out of the picture then? Would she be in the same spot she was now?

"He proposed last Wednesday when I went to seat him. It was so adorable. Everyone stood up and clapped."

"That's wonderful, Michelle?" What if? Quick to get her mind off of the past, or more accurately, the possible future, Molly found a new subject. "Oh, this is my friend Saoirse. She works with me."

"Hi, congratulations." Saoirse said, reaching forward to shake the hostess' hand.

"Thanks." Michelle beamed. "So, for two then?" Molly nodded, already prepared for what was about to take place in the next five to ten minutes. Michelle led the two girls to a table by the window.

"This good for you?" she asked, gesturing to the table.

"Perfect, thanks." Molly nodded sitting down. Michelle put the menus down in front of Molly and Saoirse and then left.

"So, what do you usually eat here?" Saoirse asked, gabbing a menu and opening it.

"Whatever the waitress brings me." Molly answered, taking a menu as well.

"Ha. Ha." Saoirse responded. The sad part was that Molly wasn't kidding or even being smart with her. She rarely got exactly what she ordered. Janet always made a few "improvements." The two quietly looked over their menus for a couple of minutes before they were interrupted by a half shriek.

"Molly McKay?!" Molly didn't even turn to look. To some extent, she had been expecting it. It had only been a matter of time, and while this was a little sooner than anticipated, she still wasn't caught of guard nearly as much Saoirse who, upon hearing Molly's name screamed across the otherwise calm diner, had jumped and let out a small squeaking noise.

"Shit, Molly." She commented. "You're like a fucking celebrity, here! I can see why you come so often." Saoirse usually cursed excessively when she was a little embarrassed.

"I'm not a celebrity." Molly dismissed.

"She looks pretty excited to see you." Saoirse opposed, looking in the direction the noise had come from. Molly turned to look as well to see Janet weaving her way, coffee carafe in hand, between the various tables in the middle of the room to get to Molly's table as quickly as possible.

"Molly! It _is_ you. It's about time you were back. Where have you been?" Janet exploded upon reaching the table. Saoirse looked highly amused.

"Well, actually I had a fa—"

"It better be a good excuse because you missed **a lot**. Like, Michelle got engaged. Did she show you the ring? A little small and pretty simple if you ask me, but whatever makes her happy. You know, I was the one who gave him the idea to propose in the first place. He came in a few weeks ago, and I told him, at her age, Michelle's going to be looking to get serious and settle down and if he wanted to stick around, then he'd better get his life together and put a ring on it. You know, honestly, I'm al ittle surprised he did. He always seemed like a womanizer or a con man or something. I mean," she lowered her voice, "we know Michelle. She's not the smartest girl. She'd probably fall for anyone who treated her half decent and then have him play her."

The look of amusement had slid of Saoirse's face to be replaced with a combination of conversational whiplash and indignation on behalf of her own singleness and the shameless defamation of Michelle and her happiness. Molly struggled not to laugh.

"And then there was the robbery. But the police came and handled it. Apparently one of the old cooks who had been fired, Sam or Simon or something, was a bit disgruntled with the management here and how they had fired him so he wanted revenge. I heard that he had been sleeping with Elise, and she had something to do with helping him get in. I told Jerry to look into her, but God forbid he listen to me."

"I find it hard to believe anyone could ignore you." Saoirse retorted. The dig went over Janet's head as she realized Saoirse was sitting at the table for the first time.

"Sorry, I didn't see you. I don't believe we've met. I'm Janet." The waitress stuck out her hand.

"Saoirse." The baker responded, shaking Janet's hand.

"Saoirse and I work together." Molly put in. Janet gave a nod, and began to pour coffee.

"Great. Oh! I forgot to mention about _O Captain! My Captain!_" Janet started again, lifting up the coffee pot so that Molly had a full cup of coffee and Saoirse had about half a cup. "You won't believe about the site!" Across the table Saoirse looked down into her cup and then up at Molly.

"_What the fuck?_" She mouthed from across the table. She turned to Janet. "Excuse me?" Janet looked over at Saoirse, not used to being interrupted herself.

"Just let me finish, please." She said holding up a finger and then continuing her story. Molly almost let out a laugh at the look on Saoirse's face. Saoirse began to turn a little pink, but she patiently waited until the end of Janet's story. "Would you believe it?"

"No, that's crazy." Molly responded, ripping the packets of her two Sweet N Lows and then placing the wrappers next to her empty creamer containers. She hadn't listened to any of the story, but the she'd gotten good at automatically responding.

"I know! So, what did you want?" She asked Saoirse.

"Can you finish pouring my coffee please?" Saoirse requested, obviously irritated.

"Certainly. No need to get snippy." Janet responded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you upset that a customer here actually wanted you to, I don't know, do your job as opposed to standing there and babbling on about how you're constantly meddling in other people's lives or your crazy obsession with Captain America?" This was better than Molly expected.

Janet huffed. "Well, if that's the way you feel. Can I take your order?" She turned to Molly, smiling.

"I will have the stuffed French Toast." Molly said, folding her menu up.

"Stuffed French Toast. Whole wheat bread. Orange juice."

"No orange juice. Just the coffee is fine." Molly waived a hand.

"Don't be silly, you need some Vitamin C. Besides, there's no pulp. And you?" Her tone dramatically changed as she turned to face Saoirse.

"I'd like the Old Glory breakfast. With my eggs sunny side up and bacon and hash browns." Saoirse smiled, folding up her menu and handing it to the waitress

"Really?" Janet asked, looking at Saoirse.

"Yeah, really. Why?" Saoirse asked.

"Nothing, I just thought that you would go for something a little healthier." She shrugged and walked away from the table. Molly had never seen her so cold.

"What does she mean a little healthier? I'm a fucking twig." Saoirse asked, watching Janet's retreating back.

"Well, that's Janet for you."

"If she's always such a bitch, why do you come here?" Saoirse asked, taking up her coffee and sipping from it.

"The food's get, I get a discount, and she's just white noise to me. Besides, I'm on her good side. She likes me." Molly teased. "Besides, not all of the servers are like that." Molly added in this last part as if she had ever had another server. There was no use letting Saoirse think that she had been set up.

Time progressed as they waited for the meal. Saoirse told Molly her story about the fire and some of what happened in the bakery, and some stories from grad school. Molly listened and put in her two cents every now and then. Janet stopped by twice to fill up Molly's coffee, and only one time put a couple drops in Saoirse's before walking away. Molly was a little surprised at how much the two _didn't_ get along. All things considered, Janet wasn't as bad as usual today. Saoirse must really just have no tolerance for her type of people.

About five minutes after the last coffee refill Janet came back with their food and laid it in front of them on the table. Molly had her orange juice (that she didn't want) and whole wheat stuffed French Toast. Saoirse had an egg whites omelet along with a cup of fresh fruit.

"What's this?" Saoirse asked looking at Janet.

"Your breakfast."

"This is not what I ordered." Saoirse said looking at her plate and pushing it away.

"This is better. This is what you actually want." Janet argued, looking at Molly with a face that read: _Can you believe this guy?_

"No, I ordered what I _actually_ wanted, and this isn't it. Please get me what I ordered." Saoirse said, pointing in the direction of the kitchen.

"Ok, I just would be worried about keeping healthy if I were you. You really don't need all of the grease and fat that you ordered." Janet said looking her over.

"Excuse me?" Saoirse asked. "They called me Skeletor in high school. My metabolism is like the fucking Flash. I want my Old Glory breakfast." Her voice started to raise as people around them started to look.

"Well, it's not high school anymore now is it, honey?" Janet condescended.

"I'm sorry, are you the waitress here or just the resident bitch?" Saoirse asked. Molly couldn't stop herself dropping her jaw.

"You know, I have a really hard time that Molly could be friends with someone as rude as you. Really, Molly." Janet said angrily, turning to face her. Molly put her hands up as if to deflect.

"I think we all just need to calm down, here." Molly suggested. She hadn't considered the possibility of all of this backfiring on her.

"Now get me the food that I ordered or I'll call the manager over to fire your ass." Saoirse snapped.

"Jerry loves me. He'd never fire me." Janet retorted, childishly.

"Oh yeah? Is that because you're f—"

"Ok!" Molly intervened. The majority of the diner was now looking at them. Molly could honestly say that she hadn't expected things to escalate so quickly. "Janet, thanks for trying to help, but maybe it'd be better if you traded tables with someone so everybody can cool off. Here's something for your help." Molly produced a couple of dollars from her purse. "Saoirse, I really don't think we need to call a manager."

"Fine. I'll get someone else" Janet snapped, grabbing the plate and walking away.

Molly didn't know how she felt about the rest of her life, but the entertainment at breakfast was pretty great.

_And I'm never ready_

_'Cause I know, I know, I know_

_That time won't let me_

_Show what I want to show_

Molly was tired. Her first day back at work had been a full one. Dianna was still stressed over everything that had happened while Molly was gone, and after breakfast, Saoirse alternated between ranting about Janet and how Molly shouldn't put up with her crap (Saoirse used a different word) and should probably find a new place or always sit in Devon's section. Devon was Saoirse' other choice of topic. The attractive waiter had served them for the remainder of breakfast and now had in his possession Saoirse's number. That was, if he picked up the note on the napkin. Saoirse had continually whispered new innuendos about him waiting on her throughout the morning, all of which were vaguely amusing, but by the end of the day had started wearing on Molly's nerves. She wanted someone to listen to her for a change, but it wasn't as if she was allowed to say anything. Life could be so difficult.

Molly sorted through her keys again, inserting the correct one and walking into her apartment. She walked down the small hallway and into the larger room and instantly recognized something was wrong. There was someone sitting in her apartment. Molly didn't look at the figure twice. She turned around quickly and ran for the door.

"Molly, wait!" a familiar voice cried out. Molly stopped and turned again. Pepper had quickly gotten up from the table and had her hand out to stop Molly. "Sorry. I guess a surprise home coming party probably wasn't the best idea considering recent events."

Still a little flustered, but much happier Molly walked back into the room. "Probably not." Molly laughed. This time she noticed the "Welcome Home!" sign that was taped to her ceiling and the flowers on the table. Pepper stood in front of her looking as put together as ever in a nice skirt suit with her pin straight hair, resting gently on her shoulder, every strand in place. Molly's hair was now falling out of its ponytail and her scarf was skewed so one end reached her knee and the other end was a little past her collar bone. Her face had to be pink too from the shot of adrenaline and all of the blood that rushed to her head in that moment.

"I made dinner. Well, brought dinner. Do you like Italian?" Pepper asked.

"Anything I don't have to cook sounds good right now." Molly said, taking off her scarf and jacket and hanging them up in the closet as Pepper moved into her kitchen.

"I really am sorry for the scare. I just thought it might be nice to have a little party for you to welcome you home, since you've been through a lot recently. Plus, nobody can really know about any of this, even I should technically be in the dark, but I just had a feeling that it would be nice to have someone to talk to. I don't know. I can leave you with the food if you want. I sort of invited myself over." Pepper started to second-guess herself.

"It's fine. More than fine. I really appreciate it, actually." Molly said moving in to her kitchen area to sit at the table as Pepper brought over two plates of ziti and salad. Pepper set the plates down before stepping back into the kitchen and producing a bottle of wine.

"I also brought some of the good stuff to class this meal up a bit." She said, pouring a glass for herself and a glass for Molly before placing the bottle on the table. Molly laughed a little.

"So, how was your first day back at home?" Pepper asked sinking into the seat across from Molly.

"It was nice, I guess." Molly responded, taking a forkful of salad. "I don't know; it was just a little weird." She finished, punctuating her sentence by eating what was on her fork.

"Mhm?" Pepper nodded, digging into her own meal.

"It's just—how do I pretend like nothing's happened and that everything is ok, and I'm the same person who left. Things are different now, and I don't know how to explain that to people. I hardly even know how to explain it to myself."

"I know what you mean. When Tony started with Iron Man, I didn't know how I could act like everything was normal and that I didn't know anything, when I was involved in the middle of things that affected the whole world, even if nobody knew it. It's something that you never quite get over."

"Perfect." Molly grumbled, taking a bite of her ziti. "SHIELD was just so amazing, and I miss it. I just feel like I belonged there, and there it was ok to be a little different or not have everything together, because nobody expected that of me. Here, I have to be perfect again. Like some robot. Like life is supposed to be easy for me because I can remember things better. I get back to work, and right away, my boss sits me down in front of new recipes and orders and event planning because I'm the only one she rely on to remember and do a good job. It's still a lot to put on me. People just use me here. Like they want me to be some sort of normal person superhero. I never volunteered for that job though."

"It's not just your memory, it's because you're capable and reliable. People think of us like machines, and maybe we are when it comes to work, but life effects us just like it does everyone else." Pepper nodded. It was nice to finally have someone who Molly could talk to and who could empathize with her. Her mother tried, but it wasn't the same. Everyone else used Molly as some sort of receptacle. Saoirse tried to drag information out of Molly, but the stuff she wanted to hear was different than the stuff that Molly was capable of saying. For once, Molly wanted to be herself, and here was Pepper allowing her that chance.

"I'm sorry, you came over and made me dinner and now I'm just dumping on you. I'm here safe and sound, and I should be grateful for that." Molly apologized.

"I already told you, I came here to talk. I understand how you're feeling, and I want you to know that if you ever get tired of your life at Monarch, I'm sure we could find a place for you at Stark Industries."

"I love my job, and the people I work with. I'm just so different now, I don't know where I belong anymore." Molly said, look up at Pepper.

"Well, I'm here to help. Unlike SHIELD, I won't disappear on you. You should have my number. You can call anytime. I can't guarantee that I'll always be able to drop everything to talk to you or do something, but a getting together every so often could be good. It's a hard transition back, but you'll be able to do it. You're stronger than you might think you are." Pepper complimented. "I don't know many people who could get cut in the throat and handle it like you did."

"I was sort of amazing." Molly joked. She reminded herself a little of Saoirse in that morning.

"Yes, you were." Pepper smiled. "Now, maybe instead of talking, we should get drinking. I'm not saying it's the best solution, but it sure seems like a good one now."

"I would second that." Molly said taking up her glass.

"Wait, a toast." Pepper stopped Molly before the baker could take a sip. She picked up her glass. Molly was brought back to the night of toast making on the Helicarrier, and she swallowed a lump in her throat. "To the women in the middle." Pepper proposed.

"May we forever be stronger than everyone else." Molly smiled, clinking glasses and taking a drink. She had a long road ahead of her, but at least she finally found some company for the ride.

_My dear old friend, take me for a spin_

_Two wolves in the dark, running in the wind_

_I'm letting go, but I've never felt better_

_Passing by all the monsters in my head_

Molly walked into her apartment and paused. It seemed like the first time this past week that this action seemed normal to her. There was no alien, no rearrangement of furniture, no surprise party; it was just plain old home. Life was going back to how it had been. Pretty soon, she would be plain old Molly. And plain old was good. Right? Molly dropped her purse off on the kitchen counter and shrugged off her jacket, going back to the closet to hang it up. Suddenly she heard a buzzing, and realized that her phone was going off. Molly checked her pockets, and then the pockets of her coat before remembering that she had put it in her purse. Molly reached in, finally picking it up and only glancing at the caller I.D. before she answered, so as not to lose the call. "Hello?" she asked, hoping she could recognize the voice of whoever it was or that they would identify themselves.

"Hi, Molly. It's Pepper. Sorry are you still at work?" Pepper's familiar voice responded.

"I just got in, actually." Molly smiled, walking back over to the closet to kick off her shoes.

"Good. I wanted to ask you if you were free to get together for lunch sometime next week."

"Let me check." Molly answered, moving over to her calendar. She moved her finger along the rows of dates checking for a time that would be ideal for a lunch. "I get off early on—" She was cut off by a large crashing sound that caused her to jump at least a foot and let out a small scream.

"Molly?! Are you ok?" Pepper's voice came out over the phone, panicked. Molly started calming herself down, putting her free hand over hear heart.

"Yeah, sorry." She responded taking deep breaths. "I think that something just fell onto my fire escape." She moved over to the window, leaning over her bookshelf to peer out onto the floor of the fire escape to look for the source of the noise. "Oh my goodness." She whispered, gasping and putting a hand over her mouth. Sprawled on her fire escape was a person. Or, more like a person's body. "Oh my goodness." She repeated, staring at him (at least, it looked like a him). He lay curled on his side, with his head turned away from her. A large dark spot was growing on his back, and he didn't look like he was breathing. "Oh my goodness. Pepper. There's a person on my fire escape." Molly said trying to wrap her head around what was happening.

"I'm calling 911." Pepper answered. She sounded just as freaked out as Molly.

"Good." Molly half-shouted into the phone as her panic rose. Was this a neighbor? Had he fallen out of his window? Maybe it was a thief who had thought he could jump out the window and land on the fire escape to avoid getting caught, but got hurt. Wild scenarios filled her head as she threw open her window and clambered out, knocking some of the pictures and books on her shelf over in her haste. There was more blood than she had realized. It was painting the once black metal, red and dripping through the holes of the fire escape, down to the street below. The body shuttered. How could he possibly be moving still? Molly tried to choke back the bile rising in her throat, but was unsuccessful. She leaned over the railing and lost the control of her stomach. She hated the sight of people bleeding or dead things, and seeing someone bleed to death, was too much. Once she had hit a bird with her car, and she had to pull over her car and sit back in her seat to overcome a wave of nausea. She hadn't eaten the rest of the day. She probably wouldn't eat the rest of today either. She could hear Pepper dialing 911 on another phone. Molly wiped her mouth off, and turned back to the poor soul on the fire escape. She knelt down and gently turned him onto his back so maybe he could breathe better. She was beginning to wish that she had read more on emergency care and first aide besides the "Safety Sitters" pamphlet that she read when she was 13 so that she could babysit.

"Hold on, my friend's calling 911. Just, don't die. Please, don't die." Molly sputtered, feeling her stomach start to get upset again. She held her breath and took a deep breath.

"Molly." The dead/dying man groaned. Molly's heartbeat quickened and she stood up a little bit to separate herself.

"How do you know my name?" she whispered.

"Molly, run." He moaned, coughing up a little bit of blood. Molly shuttered at the sight, before she took in what he said.

"What?"

"SHIELD. Run." He coughed again, and Molly's eyes grew wide as she backed away. "Run." He whispered again. He didn't move after that.

"Pepper?" Molly started getting choked up with terror. She could hear Pepper talking to the 911 operator. Molly looked around as she quickly contemplated what her next move should be. They would expect her to go down the fire escape since it was the easiest exit, right? She dove through her window, adrenaline coursing through her. She came crashing onto the floor, but quickly picked herself up as she took off towards the door "Pepper?!" Molly cried into the phone, wrenching the door open.

"Molly? Hello? What is it? What's happening?"

"He was a SHIELD agent." Molly said running through the halls and choosing to go for a less direct staircase, rather than the one closest to her apartment. She threw open a door and began to take the stairs two at a time. "They're after me again."

"What?" She could hear Pepper becoming even more panicked as well.

"PEPPER!" Molly screamed into the phone as she saw an alien coming up at her. She turned around to go back up the stairs to meet another one. "Please, no." She cried. "Please, don't kill me. I don't have anything to do with this. Please. Please." She could hear Pepper shouting her name into the phone, and a different, horribly familiar voice behind her.

"While I do love the sound of begging, I feel inclined to inform you that presently it will do you no good." Molly turned to face Talbot, and in the next second she was gone, her cellphone left to clatter down the stairs, Pepper's worried voice calling Molly's name all the way down.

* * *

**Ending Thoughts**_: Worth the wait? I hope so! Please let me know what you thought! Oh yeah and the song is "Slow and Steady" by Of Monsters and Men._


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